Adventures in Trying to Get In Shape, Part Infinity
Today marks the day where I have officially gone to the YMCA to do some kind of “workout” every day for two straight weeks. I am transitioning out of what was basically an 80+ hour job with little time for my family, let alone working out in some way. In other words, I have been collecting calories.
I have quickly learned a few important things:
Most people at the Y appear to not really need to be there. I have never seen so many super-cut, muscular people in my life. I guess they are all in the maintenance phase of their deity-like appearance. I also firmly believe that their bodies naturally oil themselves. I must not go to the Y when there are other “start of the journey to Homeric hero” bodies present. My circadian rhythms must be off.
All public-service announcements about hydration are reaching the public and then some. While I show up with the water bottle from by bike, many carry around what appear to be multi-gallon water bottles/jugs/coolers that they regularly refill. If I put the back seats in my car down, I could fit one of these in for the drive. At the very least, a fashionable water bottle would now be heavy enought to activate the airbag in my passenger seat.
There is not one day that I do not accomplish something ridiculous. For instance, trying to adjust something on a machine and not knowing how, always facing the wrong direction, as well as regularly looking on the verge of death. I refuse to touch bands of any kind, as I know I will require aid in disentanglement. Today, however, was a new spectacle, as I added swimming to my regimen for the first time. How did this go? Amazing. Highlights include:
I started by putting the lock on my locker backwards, facing away from me. I did not bring my reading glasses, so even while kneeling and contorting to see the numbers, I could not read them. I had to ask the lifeguard to come help me try to do this. You know those dreams where fear manifests as you being naked in front of a ton of people? Mine is the opposite: I fear being laughed at by a bunch of naked guys while I remain clothed, which is exactly how this played out.
I swam 20 laps. Not bad! I also swallowed 20 gallons of pool water, as my side-breathing technique apparently needs work. I brushed my teeth for an hour when I got home.
3/4ths of the way through my swim (in a dedicated lane), the pool opened the kids’ slide, which has a steady current of water flowing down its curves and into the pool…toward the lap lanes. By this time, I was so tired that on my first pass through, the current from the kids’ slide almost pushed me over the buoys and into the next lane. Then, to add to the folly, I finally got caught in the kids’ slide current and could not escape. I was breast stroking like the bejesus, but only advancing a centimeter per five strokes. I was like the Millennium Falcon caught in the Death Star’s tractor beam. Luckily, I escaped.
I like to swim in a surf shirt (I do not surf), as I don’t do well with the sun, even though it is largely responsible for life on earth as we know it. I decided that I would do this indoors as well, in case the pool lights were actually UV emitters in disguise. My shirt, unlike when I was in the Pacific ocean last summer, decided to randomly balloon with air, as if I were sitting in a hot tub. So yes, I was the strange sea creature swimming in lane two—at least there were two lifeguards, so I was a protected species.
Next up, the quest to do my first unassisted pull-up since middle school. As soon as I can hang onto the bar, I will report on my progress.