Well, it had to happen sometime. The better half and I finally decided that laying around and avoiding the heat all summer had to stop, so, we joined a gym. We are in the second week of going to a small gym in Princeton three times a week to hit the treadmill and one or two similar machines to improve our stamina, lose some weight and do something about our heart health.
To the point at which we started getting three digit temperatures, I would get out at least three times a day with the dog Filbrix on walks varying from one to five miles, depending on a number of factors. Obviously, three digit temperatures led to two walks per day of around a mile each, before sunrise and after sunset.
The local walks with the dog Filbrix led to a familiarity with certain features along the route. There are people who notice me and my canine companion; one of them stopped me at the local grocery store – hailing me as “The dog walker.” There’s a gentleman I’ve seen before who has had problems with his knees – he walks a Pitty (much to the dog Filbrix’s interest) on a regular basis. He gets around much better these days.
Other people on the route include the Asian woman with the two “Yappy Dogs” who somehow manage to be out at the same time as we are – the truck driver up the street who has the grown daughter who visits and rollerskates when she is visiting – the waver who always tells me to have a blessed day (and blesses the “doggy” while he’s at it – and Joe, the work at home guy who is good for a general conversation now and then.
Filbrix’s doggy pals include a trio I’ve nicknamed Larry, Curly and Moe, a dog I refer to as “Snarly” because all she used to do was snarl as we went by, and another “Yappy Dog” I’ve nicknamed as “Lit-tle Flearanch.” Dad always referred to unfamiliar dogs as “Flearanch.” If the people living with me at the time the dog Filbrix came to live with us had a slightly different sense of humour, I might have named her Flearanch. Just to be different.
Hmmm… strayed a bit from the theme I began with. No matter. Walking a treadmill is different than walking around a block or on a rail to trail, trail. The scenery doesn’t change much. There’s a gas station across the street. There’s some entertainment value in checking out the price of gasoline on the markee. Not much, but some. Since we go to the gym at rush hour (we get there by going the back way), I get to watch traffic get jammed up on US 380. Seen one traffic jam, you’ve seen them all. And then there are the occasional younger women who turn my head – but just a little, since the better half is usually on one of the adjacent machines.
And I really don’t mind talking with my wife. We exchange notes, figure out what we’ll eat once we get home, and discuss other topics which need to be discussed without my being on the computer keeping up with the peeps, writing on my latest project(s) or working on other non-writing projects.
Results? Well, it’s really too early to tell if this habit I’m trying to establish is doing me any good. Other than the occasional twinge, the routine hasn’t been detrimental. If the doctor is impressed with my efforts, he will let me know next month. I hope that the cholesterol numbers will be down (again), as well as the weight (which has been slowly creeping up due to the inaction caused by the triple digit temperatures).
Time will tell.
During the meanwhilst, I have an appointment with a treadmill three times a week.
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bdharrellauthor 