The Fitness center

Today I joined the fitness center. Funny how the price came down when I mentioned that I was shopping around. I decided early on that I would punish myself slowly rather than feel that I had something to prove. I even fired up the hot tub earlier in the day to ensure that I had a place to simmer and soak after. I began with 20 minutes of cardio on the eliptical. I used to tear this one up and I am eager to get to the point where I have the endurance I once enjoyed. From there I worked my arms and chest a bit. Manboobs (or "moobs") seem like an inevitable excersize in futility as we men age, so I 'm pretty motivated to concentrate on this particular area. I envy a well defined chest and want one that would make Usher smile with admiration.

Missing are the days where I felt good most of the time and had better clarity of thought as well as an over all positive outlook. Not that I've turned into a grouch, but I sometimes find myself playing out scenarios in my head that are a bit negative. this is something else I plan to work on as I see it as a waste of time and don't like it when I see it in other people. Excersize and endorphins are a great way to clear the head and replace negative thoughts with positive ones. A better night's sleep is a bonus as well and lately I've been experimenting with some sleep inducing aides. The downside to this is that sometimes they work a little too well and the simple act of conversing feels not that different than bench pressing 150lbs.

So tonight my partner in inactivity is joining me. This should be interesting.

Saturay 2/5

Ahhh here we are, the weekend. Its going to be a busy one. Taking in a play and then Superbowl Sunday where my Packers will no doubt find victory.

Also, today is the day I get my gym membership. I am considering the facility at what was once Keiser University. Its where I first taught graphic design and fed hungry minds (and a few who were beyond emaciated if ya catch my drift). Well, they went and tore it all down and paved it over. A fitting end I must say. Then they invested several millions to create a city center that no one seems to have more than a passing interest about. A debacle to say the least. It was supposed to house a theater and some restaurants but so far all I've seen is a farmers market and some arts and crafts. But there is a pretty decent gym there with raquet ball, basketball and a fooseball table. Money well spent for sure. But I'll take advantage of the fact that this 3 million dollar tax payer funded city center is such a well kept secret.
Believe me when I say that I'm done with the gyms where they've become what I call "good 'ol boys clubs". There's testosterone and posturing aplenty, and how these guys get these bodies is beyond me. What do they do, work out at home then come here to show it all off? Because I see little actual working out taking place.

A visit to my local GNC is also on today's roster. I plan to load up on all sorts of things from fish oil to protein powder and maybe a little papaya seed in case of emergency (I'm told by reliable sources that this is the miracle hangover cure). Not that I plan to misbehave, but hey- there is a big game tomorrow.

But first, I think I'll set the tone for the weekends activities by taking the dane for a once around the block to get our blood pumping. Stay tuned.....

Day 4

Not much to report today, woke up later than I'd planned and just didn't have it in me to cram in a quickie. I have however decided to stop off at a GNC and make a few purchases. Namely some protein powder and electrolytes. I have a friend who I've reconnected with who is an authority on all things healthy (my clogged arteries are rejoicing). He seems to have the scoop on all sorts of health related topics and I will no doubt tap him as a resource. Eventually I'll press him on details for where I'll find the fountain of youth. Its supposed to be in Florida, but I hear Jane Fonda's charging a kings ransom for a taste.

One of my biggest obstacles I have to consider is my diet. I love to cook and take a "deny myself nothing" approach to my nightly culinary masterpieces. I have a tendency to go a bit high calorie with unrestrained amounts of sour cream, or whatever is called for at the time. My rationale is that I won't cut corners on taste but will eat less of it. Yeah, right. What's really needed here is a restriction on booze consumption. All the empty calories are as much to blame as anything else. But I am convinced that it is a major contributor to my present state and am grudgingly reconsidering its place in my life. You might say "anything in moderation." I'd say, "have you met the Missus?".

Day three

Okay, legs now you've got my attention. I thought you were just being nice but now I see that you are trying to send me a message. Got it. You're unhappy. You're being asked to do more that go to the fridge or the couch. Get over it. You're about to be re-introduced to the eliptical. Remember THAT torture device?
In the meantime, it was time to get to work and try to walk like a normal person rather than a manequin. (if manequins walked that is) Did great until I found the stairs. A lesser man would've surrendered to the elevator, but not me. I grabbed the handrails (unfortunately with both hands) and drug my 193 lb fat ass to the top composing myself as I entered the classroom. I entertained the thought of taking something to quiet the complaints of my legs, but I guess I kinda like the constant physical reminder that I am on a quest that demands a sacrifice or two. On to day 3.

Day One

Okay, so I'm not 50 yet and am clinging to my 40's like a pimp to a hooker. Even tho my enevitable date with a half of century is still 6 months away I still belong to a special (but desperate) group known as the in denial late 40's. Hey not a great name, but I didn't choose it. Anyway, Molly and I headed out to the great uncertain. 12 blocks of smooth pavement with little traffic and flat as the club soda that will eventually co-mingle with my vodka. I told myself to start slow with low expectations. Good advise.
Thoughts of images of me lying by the roadside clutching my chest and re-awakening holding court in a huge tent surrounded by large breasted amazon women gave way to the gasping and wheezing fits that make you remember that you do indeed have organs.
As my faithful dog was still getting used to this "new kind of walk" (one that punishes incessant sniffing of other dog's excrement every 10 feet), I pushed my shoulder back into its socket once again and forced these soon to be suffering legs to return home.
I made it! One mile without stopping! There was life after the couch! If I ever catch my breath I may try this again. The truth is, once I gathered myself (literally) I felt great. If they could bottle that stuff.......

Day two

I awoke to assess my condition to find no unwelcome effects from the day before so I decided to maintain my momentum and harness the dog again for round two. Molly's getting the hang of this new routine. (I don't get my neck snapped back from the recoil of the leash when I stop and take in the scents of my fellow canines and he the man doesn't get his shoulder dislocated at my sudden stops due to my uncontrollable pursuit of those irrestistible smells).
We took off in the opposite direction as before but equally determined. The sounds of my wheezing was syncronized with the the pounding of my cross trainers on the pavement. While the rest of the country was digging out of one of the worst storms of the decade, sweat freely ran down the 49 year old face of a man desperate to not go down without a fight. Again we made it home and like a junkie waited in anticipation for the endorphin release that was to come. For the first time in years I drove to work (45 minutes) and sang along to music. I didn't know I still knew the words to "Fernando".

today is the day!

Well, I've put it off long enough. After 9 months of sitting on my ass and doing as little physical activity as is humanly possible, (with the total cooperation of my wife) I decided to re-enter the world of the living and make an attempt to circulate some blood through these veins instead of the usual steady diet of red wine and scotch. I played with the idea long enough that it was beginning to nag at my sub conscience. Then there is the fact that the mirror is not near as kind as it once was. Don't get me started on the revolt taking place in my closet! No less than 8 pairs of pants have mutinied and united in protest against my stubborn attempts at fastening at what I once called a waist. Not that I was ever the Charles Atlas type, I did however enjoy a workout routine and although never a gym rat, I was no stranger to a fitness regime. The problem was, I'd always drop off and my ass would eventually return to a place it knows well.....not THAT place, rather, the couch.

So, today was the day. I dug out my 10 year old cross trainers, harnessed up the Great Dane, (just in case I had to send someone for help) and hit the streets. Check in tomorrow to see how day one went!