I threw out the last of the holiday eggnog. Sad. I really enjoy the few weeks from Thanksgiving to New Year's when eggnog is almost flying off the shelves--luckily, a few flew to my house.
Now, I have to admit, I can see a little bit of “eggnog” thighs… I wasn’t able to exercise to the extent I’ve wanted to--one excuse being, my eye surgeon wanted me to take it easy for awhile.
Well, the ‘awhile’ has passed, and I’m forcing myself to our clubhouse fitness room. I can't stick my head in the sand any longer...
It’s tough to get rolling--it’s easier to stay home and roll out pie dough! But, after assessing the slight under arm droop too, I’m hauling butt over to the fitness room, despite the frigid cold walk.
The machines I like to use are open, waiting for me to decide which weight level to choose. Let’s see…how about a 20# ? Naw... I slide the selector into the 40# slot to start. But wait--I have to warm up!
So, I’m rotating my arms like airplane props, just as a hulking Hulk walks in--and just about gets popped by my twirling arms. It’s him or me, so I eyeball him, slowly blocking his way, moving backward, then do a quick launch to my favorite machine.
After a few minutes of several reps, I leave it to go use the butterfly machine, which he has set to almost 200#’s. Good grief! And I had the nerve, the sheer audacity, to look into his steel gray eyes, short of intimidation?
I adjust the weight level to 40#’s, and finish after 5 sets . My arms are burning. I figure in a couple of weeks, I’ll have my arms and legs back in shape.
Cruiser, our resident duck, has been getting more exercise than me, doing her laps around the house, hoping that someone will take notice, grab the bread, and toss her a few crumpled pieces.
The other day Cruiser flew up to the computer room window, flapping for Paul’s attention. I wonder if flapping my arms will work, and someone will toss me a powdered donut…