On exercise

Exercise and I have not always been the best of friends. In our golden period, we each acknowledged the other as worthy enemies and agreed to a mutally beneficial relationship. Exercise agreed to not be too demanding on me, and I agreed to actually do some.

Now I'm a gym member again after a hiatus of over 3 years and it's very, very hard to get back into the exercise groove. I'm not a self-starter at the best of times, and finding the motivation to go to go do a workout after a long shift of people yelling at me and cursing at the computer is hard. This situation is also not helped by the fact that my gym is frequently staffed by the most amazingly handsome, fit men and that I actually fell off the treadmill last week. Well, I didn't fall ALL the way down to the floor but I definately tripped and stumbled off the side. It wasn't even moving at the time.

But the gym is definately better than walking. My mother walks every day at 5am, rain, hail or shine. Heat, flies or blisteringly cold artic wind also. She lives in a place that gets down to -7 degrees in July and she'll still go for a walk down the road. I tell her all the time she's a crazy woman but it doesn't stop her from nagging me about walking. I HATE walking. It's so boring. Even with music. If I could follow my Twitter list or play Petville or something while doing it perhaps I would like it better, but since that's not possible I will only walk when pushed. Or threatened, as is usually the case when I visit my mum.

But my fave exercise is swimming. I continually am amazed by the fact that I now own a house with a pool. Swimming is awesome. Pity it's only 7 strokes from end to end.

Maybe the gym is the best option for exercise, after all.