Today's a sodden, mist-enshrouded day in this part of the eastern seaboard, a day that reminds me of living in London and Ireland, a day when the deer peer gloomily from the woods and not even the skunks or ubiquitous grey squirrels venture out to gather yet more decaying black walnuts to add to their stockpiles in preparation for the bitter Pennsylvania winter that's been forecast by Glen, the perpetually dickey-bowed weatherman, on our NBC affiliate. (He boasts an eighty percent accuracy rate in his long range forecasts so we'll see; if he is, he'll drive me from this part of the states for sure because I can't hack snow or winds so chilly they numb the lips within seconds of being exposed to them.)
Today was also D-day in a way. You see I've been a wee bit lazy of late: I stopped doing my weight-lifting six weeks ago, although I continued to do the elliptical and even bumped my time up by five minutes in a futile attempt to delude myself that I was still being scrupulously diligent. A few weeks ago was also my anniversary at the 'Y'. I've now been going there for a year; in fact I just renewed my membership for another year and am resoved to take up Yoga and Pilates in the coming months.
So, on this unmotivating day, I decided to return to the weight-lifting section of the gym because, though my body is taut and quite satisfactory in general, I was beginning to think my biceps were becoming a little slack and my tummy has begun to chomp discomfitingly against the waistband of my Levi's (even with the belt's removal) rather like a horse's mouth at a bit. I'm sure the biceps issue is all to do with guilt and an overactive imagination, but said Levi chomping will not be denied, nor can my voracious appetite and vino-imbibing during Thanksgiving and subsequent Christmas parties of late. It's all conspired to remind me of how much sweat I've spilled to get to this body-stage and, knowing I have four parties this week beginning tonight and four more next week, was sufficient motivation to dispatch me to the dumbbells and hellish abdominal machine.
Hornet was already in the section (she no longer owns the Hummer as I don't see it in the parking lot anymore and has now taken up weights in addition to her hours of cardio) working on her abs and we nodded at one another. We've lapsed into a sort of agreeable nodding and I'm hopeful this bout of amiability will last. There is only one tiny threat to its termination. We're both creatures of routine and, like me, she gets to the gym after eight in the morning and loves to get rid of the tedious and difficult exercises in her routine first. This includes abdominals. As there's only one machine and it's very popular and never free at the moment one needs it, we'll have to see how it works out though I am determined not to fire the first volley of shots. I refrained from asking her how long she required and did my butt squeezes instead.
I remain confident. We shall see.
[technorati: YMCA, gym, pennsylvania, deer, cardio
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