It might not be pretty, but sometimes, it doesn't need to be. That's how this morning went. That dreadful treadmill. Now I've seen many a folk prancing along with ease on those things. Graceful with every bound. As if Richard Simmons was skipping along with them. Looking down at mine, I knew for the next few minutes, there would be no prancing. No bounding, sprinting or skedaddling. Just a tortoise getting back, to somewhere I've been before.
Now 20 minutes goes by pretty quick most days. Yeah, ever try counting to 1200? Let me tell ya, doesn't go by so fast. And that's not the worst of it. A five minute "cool down" after my set time of 20 minutes. At first I was quite pleased, a little slower pace to catch my breath and a chance to glance around to see who was snickering behind me. But for five freakin' minutes? And I could not just get off. How would that look? So I stayed determined, although boiling from exertion, to finish out strong...and slow.
Wait, what are those called? Weights, dumb bells? Kettlebells? Huh? Attempted some weight training as well. Not too much. Didn't want to hurt myself. I had buttons to push at St. Luke's today. Kept to the chest. -decline, bench, incline, db fly, db single arm row
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