Working Out, A Great Idea.

Mike, my cousin, or as we know him in the family, Beautiful Mike, or as some of his Facebook Friends seem to know him, Stubborn Mike, asked for "gym motivation tips."  He is trying to find a way to talk himself into going back to the gym and working out.  My tip was to tell everybody he knows he is going and he is going to make them all pay dearly when he reaches sufficient macho, masculine beefy, testosterone fueled meanness.  Only part of it was a joke.

Threatening people is a bad idea, just read the "Guns of August."  But, telling everybody you are going to start working out is a great idea.  When I decided to quit smoking I told everybody, then I really had to give it my best effort.  Nobody wants to answer the question, "how are you today?" with;

"Oh, I am a miserable failure, I tried to quit smoking but only lasted for a couple of hours before I rushed out, bought a carton and three disposable lighters, (one glows in the dark, just in case) my nerves were shot, and I was an emotional basket case." 

"Wow, I am very sorry to hear that.  Do you want me to leave room for cream, or sugar in your coffee, sir?"  That is so humiliating, trust me, I know. 

So telling people you are working out is a good way to get yourself to the gym.  After a few visits it is easy.  You want to go, it is like an addiction.  It makes you feel good.  It is hard not to go.  Last night was Monday, and I had not been there since Friday, and I was happy walking in the door.  

Unfortunately, it was packed with people and I had to use a recumbent exercise bike.  It was my first time on that machine, with luck it will be my last.  As soon as an elliptical machine was open I made the move.  Having hit my target heart rate twice on each machine, and maintaining it for quite a while, I felt good.  

I added at least thirty pounds to each of the resistance machines, and tried a new exercise.  Instead of pusing the levers forward on the Pec Fly machine you face the other direction and pull backward, working on something in your upper back, or shoulders, or something else, I am not sure.  It did not go very well.  Either I was doing something drastically wrong, or need a lot of work on the upper back, shoulder, or other portion.  

Working out, if done correctly, is also a great educational tool.  Last night the podcast covered the ancient Assyrian army.  A lethal, efficient, brutal, efficient organization.  Assyria was the first Middle Eastern Empire to maintain a standing army.  Before that it was more like a seasonal gig for farmers in the off season.  Idle hands are the devils plaything, right?  So, put the farmers to work attacking another country.  Plant, grow, harvest, invade (or defend), repeat.

Assyria was also one of the first armies to master siege craft.  Walls were the weapons of choice for most City States of the time, and they were mostly successful.  Not against the Assyrians, though.

Anyway, whatever it takes, get started, that is the hard part.  Continuing is easy, fun, and will help you live a longer, better life.  And, if you do it right, you might even learn something.

A New Me, Round 2 (or Tim Vs. The Machine)

Last night I went back, back to the gym, back to face my slothful, sedentary existence.  Monday, I had a dental appointment (just a routine cleaning, checkup, and lecture, (no cavities, if you were worried, I was)) so it was about 3:00 PM when I got to the gym.  Yesterday it was about 4:30, so there were a lot more people.  Young, fit, athletic people.

These people were unafraid of technology, mechanical equipment, or looking silly in the gym.  They have clothes to accent their fitness, to emphasize their athleticism, to boast of their youthful, healthy lifestyles.  These are people who jump onto a fitness machine, and bend it to their will.  It is a tool, and they use it.  Their relationship with fitness equipment is slightly different than mine.

They leap on a treadmill, stationary bike or resistance trainer, unafraid, and take off, a jet powered thrill ride to good health.  I approach slowly, trying to stay downwind, cautious, until I am close enough to grab on, and wrestle it into a draw, hoping it doesn't kill me.

In a row of 5 treadmills, I had the far right machine, and on the far left were two young people each using a treadmill, between us two were unused.  They were, from the way it sounded to me, sprinting, at a breakneck pace, running as though demons were chasing them, pushing the machines, and their bodies, to the limit.  To my keenly trained ears, and well honed sense of reality, these people were running for their lives.  Here is the crazy bit, despite the fact that they were sprinting in an all out assault on some sort of record for speed and endurance, they were having a spirited, lively conversation, laughing, and enjoying the heck out life, and each other.  All at a heart stopping, lung destroying dead run.

Atilla the personal trainer

On the other side, more young people were using resistance trainers to make themselves even more muscular and well defined.  Lifting enormous piles of weights with ease.  Muscles contracted, mountains moved, big, toothy smiles, light, cheerful, happiness, and joy, it made me a little nauseous. Weren't these people supposed to be working out?

I raised the incline, and increased the speed, and looked straight ahead.  Listening to "Attila Cometh"  by Mike Duncan, for his "History of Rome" podcast.

It seems Attila and his brother Bleda had made a big mistake driving into Persia.  It was a costly, unsuccessful campaign, and the Hun population was not pleased.  Turns out people have been complaining about the government for hundreds of years, who knew.  Anyway, he decided to make a little extra coin by kicking the livin' crap of the Romans, and he did. Constantinople (the Eastern Roman Empire) made this much easier, having sent legions of troops to the Western Roman Empire (Roman Empire Light) to battle the Vandals in North Africa earlier, turns out this was a big mistake. Anyway, the Huns won, the Romans agreed to pay them a lot of money every year to not invade them, and life went on.  Who can resist a story with Vandals, Huns, and Romans?  I can't.

It was pretty intense for me, I went farther, faster, and higher than Monday, and my legs were rubbery, and my breath came in gasps, and I slowed down.  But, I took the advice offered so freely on Monday, and did it again.  "Interval training" is what she called it, torture, and deprivation, and pain is what I was thinking.   Honestly, though, I feel pretty good about myself  (which is more than Theodosius (emperor of the Eastern Roman Empire) can say, more on that later).

So, I will be back on Friday, to show all of those kids how old people can still get up and go, as long as it isn't too high, or too fast, or too far.