… well, because I’ll never be a guru, actually. But after the extremely humbling trudge I had hiking around at Starved Rock last weekend, I finally decided it was time we started working out again. Granted, it was hot on Saturday, which totally wipes me out. But come on, I was passed by an elderly couple going up the stairs. Jeebus.
I’d have felt slightly better about it if they hadn’t been light-heartedly humming and chatting, while I stood to one side gasping for breath and sweating like a Clydesdale hauling barrels full of skunky bad American beer.
So anyway we worked out Monday, and again tonight. For me, “working out” tends to consist of about half an hour of cardio settings on various cycling/elliptical machines. Tonight, I did a full 30 minutes on the elliptical trainer thingy – Monday, all the juice I could muster was 10 minutes on the same machine (which is similar to the movements you make when cross country skiing, except without the falling and cursing and wildlife scaring). Eventually, I’ll get to where 45 minutes on the recumbent bike is no problem (except for the horribly uncomfortable seat).
I figure I’ll build up a bit of endurance before taking on the weight machines again. I liked some of the upper body ones, loathed some of them. Lower body: no problem, in fact my legs are a little TOO strong, which probably contributes to their baluster-like unsveltness. However, it’s always funny getting on either of the different leg-press machines and ripping off 3 sets at 325 pounds after some guy just did 250 with much testosterone-assisted grunting. And it’s hilarious loading the weights up on the same machine after a woman has been doing all of 30 pounds. And I was doing just that last winter – but it’s not that great for the knees, so when I do start that up again, it’ll be at much lower weight settings. Something easy-peasy.
Say about 250. That’s about right. 😉
But upper body? Wuss. 30 pounds overhead is all I can manage. Pulldowns – that’s another matter, because I can use back muscles on that. I can do 75 pounds easily, and 90 pounds eventually.
There’s a woman weightlifter at the local Smelly’s Gym and Extortion While-U-Sweat that used to do bicep curls with 90 pound weights in each paw – she’s a little scary. I used to call her “La Machine.” Me? They probably call me “Miss Flabbypants.” Or possibly Mrs. Davenport, since I’ve become rather well-upholstered and somewhat overstuffed of late.
O’course, I have to stay away from the Butterfingers in the candy machine… that might help.
