I have been gymming for a while now. Ok fine, its more like, it’s a while since I paid for the gym now. In fact, it will be 4 weeks this Saturday. Ok-ok, that’s not much and probably doesn’t deserve to be called ‘a while’, but knowing my track record, its good enough. Trust me.
So, getting back to the point, my intentions were very clear. I was targeting 5 days a week to begin with , which would go down to 4 days once I was half way through to my goal weight, and then to 3, when I finally did reach it. So, that was about it. Now the gym is open 24 hours, and my work timings allow me to go at a very convenient time of say around 8 (which would give me my much needed 7 hours of sleep), work out for an hour, and get back by 9 30 and then continue on my now refreshed day. But. That was not to happen, especially when you are married to someone who thinks the only good time to go work out is when the sun is not out yet, there is no traffic on the road ( because the normal souls would be sleeping) and, the gym is empty ( refer to the same reasoning as before).Easy for him, he can survive with 3 hours of sleep, after an hour long work out, 10 hours at work, 3 hours of travel, and 3 hours of market analysis and 5 hours of I don’t know what. But I love my sleep, so we reached a common 6 30 AM after negotiations (If I think back, I don’t what I negotiated at all! Actually he suggested 5 AM but the gym doesn’t open so soon. Bah!)
So we are up at 6:15, and take bike ride to the place, to, well, work out. 20 minutes on the tread mill, then some stretches to warm up, and then some weights and stuff. Now I am pretty happy with the way I am, and the gym thing is more from a fitness perspective than anything else (Oh whatever!).But here comes the villain. The instructor. We call him ‘Disgusted face’. Interesting character this guy, he puts off poor people there, with his awesome perennial disgusted expression. The scowl is forever there, and gets more pronounced, when someone says they are done with 3 sets of push-ups (Eh? 3? 2 more), or when some one is doing some back leg kicks slower than he wants them to (usually me, ‘ eh, faster, what is this, what exactly are you doing?’). The exact look is like what you have when you spot something that you left in the refrigerator ages ago, and forgot all about, and suddenly found it today, and could not make out what it was. Or when you spot a guy wearing a bright pink silk shirt. Or the expression you have when you watch the SX4 ad (ok that’s for me specifically, and deserves a whole post of its own, seriously). That kinda expression. Not at all encouraging I must say. The Dude isn’t too fond of him either, especially since the day he came up to him, looked at his biceps and nodded as if we were wasting his time, and asked him to do 3 more sets of weights. In fact he claims that the guy is trying to kill him.
Anyways, so now, 4 weeks later, I kept my 5 days a week promise to myself twice, and the other two weeks, it was 4 days and 2 days respectively, which makes it 4 days a week on an average (which btw is an extraordinary achievement in itself, the last time I lasted 20 days in 3 months, and of course I had valid reasons for bunking). I don’t know if it has helped me in anyways yet, but my legs do feel lighter today. Actually they feel all wobbly, and my knees have a mind of their own, they some what decide whether or not they need to bend at times, which is slightly dangerous, especially while climbing down stairs. Or on second thoughts, I can use the sprained ankle excuse to bunk a few more days. No no, this time we are looking at serious fitness. The dude surprisingly has been extremely regular, and makes me feel guilty every time I do bunk, so it is kinda tough.
But it’s going as of now and I am in fact dragging myself out of bed every morning (ok fine, almost every morning). Which makes me think that I haven’t moved from my seat even for a drink of water since I came (thanks to the wobblers), and I should in fact go get a glass of water (Strict instructions from Disgusted Face). So I will stop the rant here, and go do that. Till then, Ciao!