There is a certain symmetry and logic, to gymming. And I have discovered this rather late in life. I have never been a gym-goer. I much preferred walking to gymming. But about a month ago, a switch flipped in my head, and I found myself in my building gym.
Now, the gym in question is a superlative one. Well-equipped, and immaculate. When I stepped on the treadmill and started walking, it just felt so right. The act of putting one step in front of the other, in a regular, timed rhythm, was almost military in its precision. I can imagine how soldiers marching for their army must feel. That nothing matters more than that next step.
In short, I have discovered a new religion, with its own set of dogmas, stories, and rituals, yet totally undemanding! To think, I was such an unwilling devotee at its altar, convinced that its ‘sterile environs’ were not for me. My earlier attempts at gymming had always fallen by the wayside. I guess, one has to be in the right frame of mind to receive even the most positive of changes.
A friend and I decided to start together, on this new adventure. We entered the gym with much trepidation. Except the treadmill and the cycles, the rest of the array of machines were unfamiliar, and we had no clue how to work them. But the gym trainers, kind people, put us through the paces. So I now have a nodding acquaintance with about half the machines there. As for the rest of the machines, I have called a truce. We have decided, the machines and I, that we will meet and greet at a future date.
But the one thing I decided very early on was, I was going to go solo, instead of enrolling under a trainer, ever since I saw what they were capable of. Take my word for it. These trainers come from a land where gentleness and moderation are held as depraved qualities. Their utmost satisfaction is when their charges are huffing and panting, and screaming out their pain and frustration. They puff up with pride when their students mock-complain about how their particular trainer pushes them to the extremes of endurance. I swore to myself, I was going to maintain a safe distance from them.
So far it has worked for me. Since I am on my own, with no one to tell me what routine to follow, each day is a new day for me. I choose what I want to do, and which routine to follow. I absolutely love the machine weights section. You see, it’s just the machine and I. The machine helps me, guides me, even as I get to decide how much I want to push myself, or how many repetitions I want to do. Even, which of those to skip and which to keep coming back to. There is a certain logic to it. More important, there is no deception here, and machines certainly don’t judge you! I get a big high the days I have made my way around most of those machines, not the heavy-duty ones though, which to me, still resemble torture racks.
I enjoy being around others who gym with so much focus. Once in a way, some unsolicited, but welcome tip comes my way. I don’t mind it, in fact, I quite like it. It’s fun to be the newbie in the room!
I enjoy the routines so much now, that the days I don’t gym, I am crabby and grumpy. I am aware that my more relaxed pace will not yield the desired results soon. The world of fitness is like an unfathomable ocean. I know that I have barely skimmed the surface, a bit akin to flinging the tiniest pebble into its depths. But I know myself enough to know that rushing headlong and pell-mell, into gym routines will only drive me away with as much speed. Slow and steady does it for me. So if you are hoping to see a svelte me any time soon, you are bound to be disappointed. Give me time and I hope to show you why the tortoise is still the winner:-)
And have I stopped walking? Oh no! Gymming is for the body, while walking with friends, is for the soul:-))