The Gym

I sit here in my recliner pondering whether to go to the gym tonight or to put it off till tomorrow afternoon.  My body is tired.  Even my brain feels tired.  It is not too tired, though, to make up all kinds of reasons why tomorrow would be better:

• Tomorrow I will have more energy and will be able to work out harder.
• Sometimes a person needs to be gentle with himself.
• If I stay home I can get more writing done.
• My back is a bit sore and it perhaps needs a longer rest till my next workout.
• I feel short of sleep and a nap can be very healthy indeed.
• My body is telling me that it needs to rest, and a wise person will listen to his body.

One of the most fascinating things about working out is that is brings an awareness of the mind/body connection, and sometimes the mind/body lack of connection.  The gym is not simply about the body.  It is about the mind.  Indeed, it is more mental than physical.

In yoga there is the practice of building one's will power.  You can find some tips here.

My muscles are already feeling stronger than a month ago.  It is now time to go to the gym to strengthen my will power as well.

I just love being a jock! :)

Maturity and Visiting the Doctor

I will be 65 this July, and because of this I am trying very hard to be mature, but I must confess that I suspect I am failing because, as far as I am concerned, there is just too much silly fun to be had in life.  For example . . . this week I found a wonderful way to take twenty pounds off my weight at the doctor's office.

All you need is a cane.  I have a back and hip problem and so often will use a cane when out and about.  My cane is called Eileen, because I lean on her.  This week I was leaning on her when the nurse took my weight.

I decided to steady myself on the scales using Eileen.  Not only was I steady but I was much lighter as well.  I chuckled as the nurse told me my wonderfully new and lighter weight.  I am assuming that she was having a bad day, because she never noticed my cane pushing down on the floor, talking a load of the weight off the scales. Perhaps, though, she assumed that a patient in his senior years would not purposely distort a clinical measurement.

Then I felt sort of bad and I confessed.  I did not fully confess.  I did not admit that I put the cane on the floor as a joke.  All I said was that I noticed my cane was pressing against the floor and was probably messing up the reading.  She re-weighed me and my miraculous weight loss disappeared instantly.

For next time I am thinking of holding my breath when she measures my oxygen level. . .  but I will try to resist doing that.  After all, I am working on being mature.  Sort of like an aged cheese, I suppose.