Im a little giddy this morning. My wife let me out of training with my Icelandic sadist coach guy. Hes pretty muscle bound and thinks we all ought to be that way. His idea of a good workout for me is, literally, when Im so hot that if I stand still, little puddles form around my feet. He believes in super intense periods of aerobic exercise interspersed with bouts of lifting weights that strain muscle groups I havent heard from since my High School days. He finishes off the sessions by making me do these burpee things which should be declared illegal. Worse, I think he has a hearing problem, I keep telling him that Im over 60 and perhaps it would be a good idea to factor that into his thinking. This has not penetrated. As we go through the workout, others in the gym gather round and make a book on when Im going to expire. They remark on my trembling arms as I lift the barbell (without weights, mind you! that thing weights about 20 kg before you put a single iron disk on it), comment on the distance and accuracy of my projectile vomiting and take notes on both my burpee technique, particularly the last part where you leap up into the air (well, I usually manage to raise my arms, which in the heavy gravity here south of the equator is pretty good). Anyway, Im out of it today. I think that Ill get into the pool later and make my way to the swim up bar for a healthy juice drink. The above is completely true and accurate except for a couple of intentional porkies I stuck in here and there -- I bet no one can find them! Im a founding member of the Jakarta Von Munchausen Club!
Posted on: Sat, 26 Oct 2013 01:58:08 +0000