I am two visits away from completing six months of regular exercise. I am not trying to be narcissistic or proud and puffed up, but the establishment of this routine has had very positive benefits for my overall life. It just like Glen Close who is around 60 and told her Physician father that she had no energy for the Broadway play she is in, according to Sundays insert in the paper, he told her she needed weights and aerobics. Why would an exhausted person benefit from more activity was her thought, but she listened and did it, and he was right.
I am fortunate that a very user friendly recreation center is nearby, filled with flabby, fat, and aging folks....not a showcase for tights, but also full of teen athletes from our local high school a mile away. Anyhow, the time that is working best for me is heading home from afternoon appointments, around 4ish. I walk for 10 minutes to get the heart rate up, stretch the legs and back, go through three sets of a dozen reps on about 15 different tension and weight machines that work the whole gamut of muscle groups, and then do 20 to 30 more minutes getting my heart rate into the fat burning zone, and go home.
I sleep better, think better, move better.....except for tonight when I am awake at 2:30 writing this post. The brain would not shut down this evening. There is this cute lady I have been observing who glides from place to place gracefully, stretching and moving almost like a ballerina, and no one laughs...there are people who have gotten very heavy, on the treadmill, and no one mocks...it is a fellowship of those trying to maintain health and I do not want anything to bring this habit to a halt.
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