esrosedotblog

So I left out one of the most daily of the daily routines.

The gym.

I still go. I could not not go.

That is not me, incidentally. But you can look at him. I have.

Something in me fades out if I am not at Golds every morning at 412 AM more or less.

I begin on the recumbent bike and get going. Keep the heart rate at 100 which for my age is the right target. A nice thing about aging is that the ideal heart rate for exercise goes down. I suppose eventually it will be zero and I will be there. I think that 100 is it. The chart that I have stops at 70. I am 7 years past that. Add it up. I am quite proud of it.

150 beats per minute is the maximum rate for me. I am not sure I could muster that nor will I be trying it any time soon.

Half an hour on the bike and I will move on to stretches. The shoulder bar twists, ten up, ten bent. The railing around the stair well, three pipes high. Each stretch twice. Bottom rail, foot and ankle back pull it out. Then the other one. Next foot up on the middle rail, up on toes. Down. Then full leg to the top bar, out straight stretch that hamstring, ooh aahh. Done. Off to the abs now on a machine. There are two. I alternate.

The rest is all weight training downstairs. Ten reps twice or to failure on each exercise. Monday, I skip it and go home after the cardio. Tuesday I do the chest. Wednesday, the legs, machine squats and calf burns with some leg curls. Thursday is easy. I do the shoulders; presses at angles and some raises and I am out. Friday the back. Various alternatives like rowing, pulldowns and the like.

Saturday no gym. Sunday the same but we do a family walk, all three for a theoretical hour. Actually it is usually 45 minutes.

Then Monday again.

The gym is, more than in the past, a small social occasion. Nothing long. But mini chats between sets with a large cast of people.

I am a long time fixture at the gym now. A familiar face to many. I usually outlast all of them who show up at that time. Only a few have been there from the beginning. Youseff and a guy I do not speak to. He is a yakker and I fear being caught in his conversational web.

Others fit in when I have seen them for awhile. I do the straight guy "get acquainted" thing. First the slightly perceptible head nod, then a smile on top of it. Later, a "good morning" or a straight guy "hey" and, if I have been interested enough to get the name I will use it. I ask the desk guy. I would never ask the person. Weird. But there it is. After quite a while there might be an exchange of info. I have made some longer term more serious friends. Many of those have passed on to other times. Some to the gym in the sky. John who comes every day is a relative newcomer but I enjoy his company a great deal. "New comer" means a couple of years ago. Not 1976.

I know and like one of the desk guys. The other one, newer, is stiff and unavailable.

I still wear earplugs throughout. I do not want to hear the music. If I talk to someone I take one plug out. I am not the only one who shuts out the music although most people use earphones with their own melodies. At my age, one's head music tends to be more enjoyable than anything by others. Meditation practice has helped me to keep mental chatter down and the mind centered. I like to focus on the muscle and not do much else.

I do read on the bike for half an hour. I cannot sustain self discipline otherwise. The time passes much more quickly. I have a Kindle now. Gasp.

I will write about the Kindle another time but it is a by product of brief chats with others at the gym. A woman who is there every day came up to me while I was biking a year ago and asserted herself with a suggestion that I get a Kindle. On her advice I got one. The rest is history. I am totally bookless now. Everything is electronic. When I am not in the gym I have the Kindle app on my iPad.

Yes, that too. A fucking iPad. I love it. More about that too at a later time.

Labels: gym, routine