So, I’m on the Elliptical at the gym last night. For those who don’t know, the Elliptical is like a stair master, but the steps truck along in an ellipse. The theory, I guess, is that it reduces impact. Whatever!
So, I’m really moving, you know? Just zipping along… um, in place. I’m not holding on to the side railing because I heard that helps work your “core” better. I am an elliptical GOD!
Which is when it was time for me to be taken down a few pegs… dammit…
A trainer brings some new member over and tells her to set the resistance up to three.
And I think, “What the hell is resistance?”
It’s the setting I have at zero.
But hey, I’m a man. I’m tough. I can do this.
I set my resistance to one… two… and three… And, for the next thirty minutes, I put my body through the harshest pain since I saw Cloverfield. Worse, actually. It was more like the last time I saw an Adam Sandler film.
I can’t help but wonder: Am I out of shape, fat, or just old?
And do I really want an answer to that question?