Starting Week Three of my Hit-the-Gym phase of my Rehab. Health is seemingly, slowly improving. Since it's been since the second millenium since I signed up for a gym membership, I thought it might be interesting to catalogue some of my experiences with this new venture.
Considering myself still in the category of "young man," it's humbling to hobble down the the stairs from the parking lot to the entrance of the gym, as senior citizens bounce past me carrying their yoga mats. I look up at the sky and think "Ok. One day at a time. Before I know it I'll be bouncing up these stairs after a workout.
When I enter the gym I hand my ID to the clerk who looks like a workout guru athletic trainer. After a moment of cinversation, it becomes obvious that's who they are. One of the clerk trainers is a wheelchair-bound paraplegic super muscly guy with a Ziploc bag of homemade energy bars on his lap. Power to him!
So I pass the racquetball courts and pools to the men's locker room. Call me weird, but I've never been very comfortable in locker rooms. Something about old men walking around airdrying with their family jewels just hanging out there. The inviting aspect are the fine, wood lockers, wet spa, and dry spa which are good for stress release and detoxifying your body.
More to come tomorrow...
Okay, I'm back. So, you know you're out of shape when you prefer to take the elevator instead of the stairs to the second floor, where there is one huge, open floor plan with weight machines, free weights, treadmills and bikes, and walking trek (where I spend most of my workout right now). Sandwiched in the middle is an exercise classroom surrounded by glass walls, for yoga (dont get me started), zumba, and tai chi classes. Maybe tai chi?
One upside of this health club is that it is part of a Catholic hospital, so the ethos of the place is quiet and conservative. There's a few knuckle draggers and Jane Fonda fitness junkies, but the majority are seniors.
Interestingly, almost everytime I go to workout, I cross paths with a Monsignor of the diocese. Outside of the confessional, I've never talked to him. I want to go up and talk to him, break the ice, seeing that our paths will probably keep crossing. How might he react that I go to the Latin Mass? To the SSPX just blocks from where he serves as a priest? Hmmm, I double dog dare myself to talk to him about the Traditional Movement! Should make for an interesting update when I update my health club experiences.
Time for bed...next time the pool, whirlpool, and deli! :)
Okie dokie. Back once again. Home from my evening workout. Popping my knuckles...okay where was I?
The gym floor. So today I put myself through quite the anaerobic workout, which given my current lack of cardiovascular fitness was actually also a good 20 minutes of aerobic exercise. Met with "Tad" (the name sounds like an athletic trainer) assigned to all newbie members to start designing a workout routine. Very friendly guy. Looks like he's spent years inside a gym.
So as I later keep circling the walking track--every few laps passing an aging sister of the Sisters of the Sorrowful Mother who run the attached hospital--some inspiration starts swelling. For months it was hard to walk for any length of time. Maybe it was the music in the background, or the religious sister going full steam ahead, but the thought struck home that I'm going to get in shape. In better shape than I ever was before.
Back down to the first floor locker room, I changed into my swim trunks and swam several laps, followed by a long, unwinding meditation in the whirlpool hottub. Spoiling, but right now practically, therapeutically necessary.
Since starting to make the whirlpool a habit I've struck up a friendship with a regular, a black lady who comes for the "plus size" therapy pool exercise group.
Loves to tell stories and give pointers about making best use of the club.