Gym!

2 minute read

It’s been two months now since I joined my new gym. It feels like it’s been a lot longer than that. It’s time to revisit my initial positive review of the place.

The verdict? I love my gym. I mean I really love my gym. Love my gym with that irrational love of a fanatic. Love my gym the way a dog blindly loves the master that kicks it.

Sure, our relationship has its off days. What relationship doesn’t? I admit that there are days when I just don’t want to see my gym, when I just want it to leave me alone to be a slug on the couch. It can be very understanding on these days. It doesn’t judge me. It doesn’t guilt me. It doesn’t have to as I can do that for myself, thankyouverymuch.

And I usually do. About the only thing which prevents me from making it to my thrice-weekly gym outing is an unavoidable schedule conflict. Otherwise I’ll be there, pumping iron and dripping sweat like a good girl.

I’ve lost no weight since I joined, but the blame for that can be laid at the doorstep of my other lifestyle choices (mmm…cheese and bacon…) rather than at that of my gym. On the flip side, I haven’t gained any either despite aforementioned choices. This, I think, is one for the “win” column.

Besides, the goal for joining this gym wasn’t weight loss. It’s fitness. And as long as I continue making it to the gym there’s no way to avoid that. The trainers (all men for the most part, but the owner’s wife occassionally straps their baby into a Bjorn and lends a hand on the floor) don’t let you get away with any wussy pansy ass crap. You’re on that machine? Then you’re going to use it right and use it hard. Working that core? Then you’re going to focus (“ribs to hips…hold…down 2 3 4…ribs to hips…hold…down 2 3 4…”) and the next day you’re going to hurt. If you don’t you’re probably not doing it right so you’re going to have to start all over again.

It’s really not as hideous and draconian as I make it sound, honest. If you have a bad day at work and are lucky to even make it to the gym let alone put real effort in, you can tell the guys and they’ll lay off you that day realizing that all they’re going to do otherwise is piss you off and discourage you.

Perhaps it’s just me viewing things through rose colored glasses, but all this effort seems to be making a difference. I notice some changes in how I look (nothing dramatic yet, but subtleties have their appeal as well) but more importantly I notice changes in how I feel when I move around. Actions are more deliberate and controlled. Balance is improved. It’s a good thing.

There’s still a long way to go before I can feel I’ve really made a large difference in my fitness level (just watching the other uber-fit people at the gym reinforces that), but I’m pleased at my progress and resolve thus far in the game. It helps me to more easily rationalize how much I’m spending to do this.

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