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Stretching

Honestly, if I hadn't already made the appointment, I would have used fiscal year-end at my public sector place of employment as my excuse not to go to the gym yesterday evening.

But I went.

The first few training sessions there seemed kind of lame because frankly I am in fitness kindergarten. Riding a bike for transportation has imparted some stamina and lung power, but it has also given me unhealthily short, tight quads and hamstrings while leaving pretty much everything else weak and wimpy. I have little flexibility and no upper body strength. The developed muscles torque things that the undeveloped ones can't balance. Et cetera.

Last night we started making some real progress. Rebecca, who is literally about half my size, is a powerhouse of knowledge, goodwill, and physical strength. She got me to stretch things I thought were broken, and made me do cardio interval thingies on the arc machine till I was pouring sweat and breathing hard. She tailored an abdominal exercise for me so that I don't have to get down on the floor (hard on my knees), and she made me torture myself on the foam roller.

It was awesome and I can hardly wait to go back and try everything on my own. That's how good she is.

I don't actually know why I'm doing this--what I'm specifically aiming for--but I suspect that, as with Zumba (which I'm still doing twice a week), I'll keep going because it's fun, and just enjoy the sense of accomplishment as I conquer the next little movement.

And maybe, while I'm at it, tighten up these flappy flags below my arms.

Crossposted from Dreamwidth, where there are comments. | Comment at Dreamwidth.

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