To the gym!

Today I returned to the gym. Nothing quite like heading back to a place you haven’t visited for the last four weeks. It was almost a bit nostalgic; my friend the treadmill, the equipment, machinery, and other regulars working out. And, of course, the staff member who always plays the best music and has the kindest smile in the world.

“Long time, no see, guys! Where have you been?” 

“Bronchitis,” we reply in dismay, looking with longing and bittersweet sadness at the room we are facing.

“No shit. That’s no good. Well, make sure you take it easy as, yeah? It’s like starting from scratch when you’ve been sick and away for this long.”

Tell me about it. I almost felt like Ariz and I should have high-fived before embarking on the workout that only lasted thirty minutes, but felt like at least and hour and a half. I got on the treadmill, and started walking, with a resting heart rate about twenty beats a minute quicker than usual. Oh yeah, I have a heart rate monitor now. It’s really cool. It’s from Polar and keeps track of my heart rate, calorie burn, workout efficiency, and gives me weekly summaries of how I’ve been doing. For the past month Ms Polar hasn’t had much to report, of course. Calories burnt: Zero. Time spent at the gym: Zero. Stamina: Zero. She doesn’t actually tell me about that last one, although I do feel like she stares compassionately at me from time to time. She certainly did today. 

My goodnes, I’m unfit now. I mournfully set the treadmill to my regular fat burn program, at three levels less than usual and four kms an hour instead of nearly six. It started off all right, and I thought “Hey, maybe I’m okay. Maybe I can speed it up to five kilometres and hour.” No can do, mister. Once the incline went up, I was in big trouble. My heart rate was resting at 99 beats per minute when I started the walk - ten minutes later, I’d hit 140, and I wasn’t even doing Norwegian military marching speed. By fifteen minutes I was wheezing, and had to call it quits. So much for cardio. 

Ariz wasn’t doing any better - he was wheezing over in the weights section, but I figured I should try some muscle work. Even if just for the fun of it. Away I went at 0.0 miles an hour, finishing off with a grand total of TWENTY FOUR lunges. Oh. my. god. I stretched, and half an hour after we’d entered, we left.

“How’d you guys go?” the lovely gym instructor asked us on our way out.

“Terrible.”

“You know what? I think it’s great you’re coming in here already - it’s not been that long. And you just gotta keep it calm, yeah? If not you’ll get sick again. Take it easy, guys.”

“Thanks.”

Back in the car, we collapsed onto our car seats, had each our delicious Carnarvon banana, and finished the bottle of water we’d left half-full in the gym. Ms Polar looked up at me. 180 calories. 30 minutes. And a peak heart rate of 152 beats per minute. Man, I gotta work hard to get back to where I was. But, damn, it’s good to be back and going.