I’ve been doing a lot of exercise since around
December. Either at the gym or—now that the daylight starts earlier—out on
local trails. Nothing complicated—walking, mostly, with a bit of a trot thrown
in if my knees give me permission.
I’ve noticed that I feel better in general, not only
from the exercise, but also because I’m actually doing it. & for that
latter blessing, I have Penelope
Thompson to thank.
Penelope was my personal trainer when I was going
through a fitness program at a health club in Seattle. She & the program
were among the very few worthwhile things from my stay there. She was the
perfect trainer—understanding my starting point, & blocking out a steady
path to my goal. I met with her three times per week for 12 weeks, & then
twice a week for 12 weeks. I got to know & hate & then love the stepmill;
ditto the BOSU
ball.
She had me doing about six kinds of crunches & working my way through a
phalanx of futuristic machines.
She kept me interested, encouraged me, praised me
& prodded me. She kept me from being crabby; & let me say this: I can crab for Cal. She was perfect.
So when I started thinking about getting back in
shape after the past three years of crap, I harkened back to Penelope. I’m
walking—although I do it at a good clip: 4.9 mph straight walking on the
treadmill; 5.2 mph average when I layer in the trot. & I walk between a
13-minute & 14-minute mile when out on the trails.
Here’s the key for me, which Penelope taught me: I’m
consistent, but not complacent. Getting out & starting it each morning is
about 70% of the accomplishment; once I’m out, I’ll finish, 40-60 minutes. I
began with about 30 minutes per day in December, so I’ve progressed. When my
knees allow, each day I trot for a couple of minutes more than the day before.
I pay attention. & for me, that’s
huge.
So as I clock off another weight milestone and
enjoying getting back into some of my clothes, I’m thinking a lot about
Penelope. ¡Muchas gracias, mi hija!
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