I have just finished a six week experiment in weight training, and here’s the result: working out alone in a gym – it’s thoroughly miserable. Oh sure, listening to motivational things on your iPhone is ok, as is watching bad TV. Ultimately it’s lonely and miserable though. Also, it’s fairly mentally un-stimulating. Maybe I’m doing it wrong.
I decided to go with the first 6 week program I could find on t’internet, figuring that getting in the habit of gym attendance was just as important as the workout itself. And then I got my imaginary friend – the Gym Buddy I’d always wanted. Sure, he couldn’t spot me, or tell me that my delts were ripped (whatever that means – it sounds like one should get them replaced at your earliest convenience). But he was there for me, helping me to remember what I’d previously done. And he helped me mark my turf between sets by hanging out on the equipment.
So I could spend another hour or so of the day glued to a screen. Yay! Actually it’s not so bad. I realized that most of the email I send now is under 30 words long, which means I can type an email between sets, while listening to the Dalai Lama (‘s translator) and avoiding eye contact with everyone else. Talk about multi-tasking. And if you hold the view that most of what people do is to distract themselves from their inevitable demise, then I’m clearly winning that battle.
So that’s my imaginary friend. My real friend is demonstrable and awesome. I got measured by my personal trainer for the first time since October 2010 a few days back with astonishing results.
It turns out that seven months of eating chocolates, cake and drinking coke followed by the aforementioned six weeks of working out with an imaginary gym friend resulted in eight pounds of muscle being added to my body. Quite the result. It’s unwitting accomplice in the body invasion was it’s friend the eleven pounds of fat. Yes, eleven pounds of fat – or about a fifth of Elvis’s death-loo Mega-colon – had attached itself to my midriff. Wooah. No wonder I’m so hot and sweaty these days. Pass me the glittery jump suit, and expect more posts about experimenting with the use of antler velvet in extreme body building.