knit thru the burn
I went to the gym today, something I only seem to manage every few weeks. I brought my knitting with me, partly because it was already in my bag and partly because I was curious to see if I could actually knit on a stationary bike. Verdict: I can, although I look stupider than usual doing so. I also get bugged with increasing shrillness to “hold handlebars for heart rate,” which is irritating. Can’t it see that I’m working on a sock?
I don’t think I’ll be doing that again any time soon. Knitting is wonderful and all, but I’d rather listen to music, laugh at the crappy closed captioning on the overhead televisions and/or watch people around me lipsynch enthusiastically to THEIR music. I learned something this summer: the gym is wicked entertaining for people-watching once you stop focussing on yourself so damned much.
Of course, I’m able to lose intense focus on my own navel because my quasi-diet, quasi-lifechange is yielding results. Not only do I feel better, but I’m down a whole pound. At this rate, I’ll be down to my target rate by Hallowe’en, a good two months after the wedding. Well, at least I’ll have my seasilk shawl to nurture me with it’s oceany vitamins and overall goodness.
I was also pleased to realize that I’m in way better shape than I was when I was 20 and going to the gym with Ophelia. In those days I could barely maintain 78 RPM on the stationary bike; these days I do over 90 before I start thinking about it. And yet, the love is gone between me and the bike. I think it’s time I came out with my devotion to the cross-trainer. It’s just so much easier to get hot & sweaty, plus the endorphins are outstanding. Now the trick is going to be keeping up my hella-sporadic gym attendance during the working season.
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Don't make me send out the Blake. He doesn't listen to *anyone.*