Hounds of Hell

Thursday, February 4, 2010 ~ 3 comments so far

Glancing down at the readout I notice, with some dismay, that I’ve still got 4 minutes left. I glance around me, at the huffing man on the treadmill, the two girls gossiping whilst idly spinning the wheels on their bikes, and a middle-aged woman staring in bewilderment at the exercise sheet she is holding.

And then my gaze carries over to where the muscle boys are. Bedecked in their uniforms of vest tops and jogging bottoms they silently grimace and sweat, methodically lowering and raising dumbbells. They don’t talk, preferring to stare at themselves in the large mirrored wall, the only noise is the occsional heavy clank of metal.

Finally I finish on the bike and swap a few pleasantries with one of the staff. The middle-aged woman is pondering which machine to use next, so I politely enquire if I may use the rowing machine and we swap pleasantries about how knackered we are and how, yes it must be making a difference, mustn’t it?

I don’t go to the gym for the small talk, but it does help. I sometimes wonder if I should be more like the gym hounds, silent in concentration, focussed on the reason they are at the gym. There is a strange zen-like quality to their workouts, their notebooks scribbled inbetween sets, the precision of their movements, the repetition.

But I’m wary of such obsession, it’s not healthy. I used to work with a couple of guys who spent a lot of time in the gym, drank protein drinks and all the rest. They talked about it a lot, to the point of being boring.

Perspective is a wonderful thing, innit.

Olivia Newton John

Wednesday, November 18, 2009 ~ 2 comments so far

They make me laugh, if I’m honest. Not out loud, and not heartily, and there is a level of wonder and envy but, ultimately, I laugh at their preening and posing.

But never to their face.

As I puff and wheeze, legs failing on the bike as I crank out another kilometre, I can see them out of the corner of my eye. The clank of the dumbbells, those big weighty lumps explode into movement and then fall still. There is a fluidity, a raw power behind what they do, but the effects can be grotesque.

So I happily ignore them, leave them to their posturing. Such big proud men, so silly in their masculinity. There was a time I would’ve been threatened by them, or tried to ape them (I use the term advisedly) but that day has long passed.

Whilst us mere mortals sweat and gurn with the effort of our motions, I can’t help but think that we are the happier. We are happy to balance and trade off a nice dinner, a pizza now and then perhaps, or just that bar of Dairy Milk. We don’t need the protein shakes, and know that missing a day or two won’t kill us.

It’s an interesting place, my gym.

The impossible bike ride

Tuesday, July 14, 2009 ~ 3 comments so far

My legs are pumping, sweat drips from my brow, trickling down my nose, my hands are slipping on the grips and through half shut eyes I watch the distance slowly rise.

More! Faster! COME ON!! I silently urge myself, blocking out the slow burn of acid in my muscles, pushing myself on, adrenalin surging round my body whilst I gasp for air.

The timer counts down, seconds to go, I know I won’t make it but I have to try, all the way, 100% until there is no time left, push push push, the pedals spin and my legs scream at me to stop.

The timer hits zero, I sit up in the saddle and gulp down air. Huge mouthfuls, a drowning man saved. My legs slowly calm as I slow down.

I look down at the display, hoping for the distance I want, the distance that was set, the target that spurred me on.

The LCD glows. 10.4km.

I silently curse.

I slowly cool down, stretch my legs and head home. Why can’t I do it? Why am I so far away from it? I’ve done it once before, mere weeks ago, what is wrong with me??

And then it hits me.

Two weeks ago I sat back after spending 40 minutes on the bike. I ‘travelled’ 12.1km. Excellent, I thought. A good target. Since then I’ve only managed around 10km, quite a drop, and it’s taken me until now to realise why.

I’m only cycling for 30 minutes.

My brain is trying to kill me.

On the mend

Tuesday, May 12, 2009 ~ 1 comment so far

“You’re free!” he exclaimed.

And, with that, I skipped down the hall.

Well, not really, but he did say I was free, free from attending physio again as, by all accounts my knee is on the mend and there is nothing else they can do for me. He was happy that my left Vastus Medialis had improved sufficiently (you can now see it on my leg, yay) and that I can handle doing some non-impact cardiovascular exercise (bike, cross-trainer and the like).

Now it’s down to me to remember to do my exercise and to get my lazy ass off the sofa and down to the gym a few times a week.

And, because I like to plan these things, I’m aiming to go Monday and Wednesday evenings, and then at some point over the weekend. I won’t be able to do all that much at first, I’m steering clear of anything approaching impact as it’ll only cause the issue to flare up again. But if I take it slow and easy, continue to build up the muscle around my knee correctly, then maybe, just maybe, one day I will jog again. One step at a time.

Fixing Me

Wednesday, February 4, 2009 ~ No comments yet

I’m sitting at the dining table, the laptop in front of me with a view out of the back garden. I’m being dazzled as the in the sharp light of a crisp winter day bounces off the last of the snow.

Ollie has been in a couple of times to check I’m ok, and to warm up the keyboard of the laptop for me and I’ve just opened a letter from the bank that says they miscalculated a recently settled loan so please would I take this cheque for £400.

My heart is full and light, I’ve lost weight, I’m enjoying work despite the ongoing manic nature of things, and I seem to have hit a productive streak.

Yup, if it wasn’t for the dull ache in my knee I’d have nothing to complain about! Well that and the fact my webhost seems to have been a bit flaky recently, anyone having issues getting to the site? Ohh and not forgetting our flaky Sky+ box (engineer out this afternoon).

Anyway, I was back at the physio this morning where I discovered that, as well as the aforementioned Osgood Schlatters (now benign), I also have a condition known as Sinding–Larsen–Johansson Syndrome. Add that to my slightly knocked knees, my flat arches and my entire lower body is out of alignment and, frankly, it’s a wonder I can stand up right.

OK, it’s not that bad or pronounced and the basic reason I need to go back to physio is that I rushed back to running too soon, and need to stay away from impact based exercise. Which means elliptical trainers, bikes, swimming, stepping machines and the like. Which means going to the gym. Which means paying out money for something I’ve never really enjoyed all that much.

This is purely down to my boredom threshold being very low, something I don’t have a problem with on the Wii Fit as it is entertaining (if only mildly) and uses games/competitions to keep you motivated. However the Wii Fit isn’t going to solve this, although it will help.

Low impact cardiovascular exercise is what is needed both to help heal my knee and help me drop some more weight (it’s been very slow since the start of the year). I’m hoping the Wii Fit will help with flexibility and core stability, and I have my dumbbells for toning up.

All of which sounds very do-able. So, I guess, the only thing stopping me, is me. Which has been the case all along of course.

Here endeth todays startling revelation.