Let the weights begin!

I had my first session with a trainer at the Y on Tuesday.  She only showed me half of the weight training machines.  Her first questions to me were about why I was wanting to do this, what my goals were, what (if any) physical impediments I had, etc…  After hearing my answer she decided to start slowly with me.  She started me out with stretching and then set me up on the first five machines.   

Considering my age and all, I wasn’t surprised. 

I have not been able to figure out what sort of routine I need to be in.  Danny has given me a training plan which helps considerably, but I’m not sure if I should go in the morning before work, or later in the day after work.

The other day I walked on one of the treadmills.  Years ago I did that while Danny was on a year round swim team.  The aquatic center where he trained had a fitness center, and I used the treadmill while he swam.  I used to watch him swim back and forth, back and forth.  It seemed so peaceful.

Running is something I’ve never been good at.  Walking suits me fine, but it can be so boring.  And if I’m going to walk, I’d prefer doing it outside, but that has its problems too.  By the time I get home it’s nearly dark.  While I’m not afraid to walk in the dark, there are all sorts of dangers that can get a person in trouble.  

Dogs that come running after you, uneven sidewalk pavement, low hanging tree branches, thick bushes with a myriad of spider webs, and the inevitable lawn sprinklers that make one hope from the sidewalk to the street and back again.

I found that walking right in the street was the best.  Now, I’m not talking about doing that on a main street with a lot of traffic, but on a quiet, safe, neighborhood street.  I used to do that near our home, and always took a small but powerful flashlight with me.  I’d use it not to light my way so much, as to flash at cars as they approached from either direction so that they knew there was someone in the street.

Then, one day, as I was walking about 7 PM, a car slowed down just past me.  Alarm bells went off, but I just kept walking, and in fact picked up my pace.  Then the car backed up.  I began walking even faster.  I started looking for a home that had a porch light on in case I had to make a run for it.  (Yeah, right!  Me run?  I might just as well give up!)

The person in the car told me to stop, and it was then that I looked at the car closer.  It did not have any markings on the outside or lights on top, but inside there were all sorts of lights and dials, and the driver was also sitting at some sort of computer console.  Then I looked at his uniform. It was a county sheriff.  That was a relief.

The relief was short lived.  He told me I wasn’t allowed to walk on the street and that I needed to go home because it was too late to be walking outside.  What?  Are you kidding me?

I explained why I was walking, and why I was in the street.  I think he took it as sass, but really I was not at all nasty.  Then he told me if I didn’t get out of the street he was going to give me a ticket.  I laughed right out loud.  Seriously?  A warning bell went off and I decided not to be a jerk, but just listened to his nonsense and started walking on the side walk.

That experience sort of soured my attitude about walking outside.  Shortly after that I took up disc golf and haven’t done much seriously aerobic walking since. 

So now I’m back on that treadmill. 

I wonder if I could write my blog while walking?  That would at least occupy my mind…..  Hmmmm….