At the Gym
Yes, I actually went to the gym yesterday after joining up again.
First of all, I've gotta get me some updated gym clothes. Crunch Fitness is a pretty snazzy place and I looked like such a major dork in my blue shorts and purple shirt.
Actually, I'm not sure if they're really shorts or swim trunks.
Whatever. I did 30 minutes of cardio at a pretty good clip. I like the reclining bicycle thingy because (1) the treadmill hurts my shins (2) I get to surf the net while I work out and most importantly (3) I get to sit down.
In order to get the thing to turn on, I had to enter my age (49) height (6'2") weight (225) and sex (Male, last I checked). I picked the level of difficulty and it set the timer according to my stats.
The stupid thing said I could only pedal for 16 minutes.
I'm not THAT out of shape! Silly machine.
I easily did 30 minutes. Bah!
Now, what's with this music they play in the gym? It was either Rap (which is not music) or it was Madonna.
I might suggest to the nice Crunch people that they feature a Vivaldi or Bach harpsichord night. That might provoke me to the gym. (See? . . . Dork)
Hell, I'd even settle for a 70's Disco night. A Led Zeppelin night (just the first four albums, thank you) or a Janis Joplin night would totally rock.
I still need to check out the Peek-a-Boo showers that are featured in each Crunch Fitness. Those are showers where one can lather and sihouette one's naked self behind lighted opaque glass for all to see. It's a signature feature of Crunch; sort of naughty.
However, the Peek-a-Boos are downstairs where the big weights are; where the big, roided-out body builders huff and puff and scream at the weights.
I don't go down there. Especially in my dorky blue swim trunk-shorts and purple shirt.