Psychology

My version of Rocky: 18 steps 

 

One thing that I really loved about my downtown Los Angeles apartment, was the fitness center in my building. It was awesome. More often than not, I could get a machine. Although, admittedly I would head down to the fitness center at around 5:50am or so. Funny thing was that there was a hard core group of us that always worked out at that time. On the weekends, we tended to show up about an hour later. We were insane. I didn’t really talk to the others and yet there was a sense of camraderie. It was awesome to have such a feeling without having to engage with people. For a curmudgeon such as myself, that worked out quite well.

 

 

I knew that once I left my apartment building that I would have to come up with a new exercise routine.   When it comes to working out, I like my routines. I’m rather stuck in them. I needed to address this dilemma as soon as humanly possible considering everything else I had going on in my life the last two weeks. I did what I do with everything else. I went online to Amazon to order a new exercise machine. I ordered an eliptical machine.   I was excited for it to come so that I could work out and be back in the zone. I had been a few days without my exercises and such a situation can make me grumpy and cranky.

 

 

The machine came and assembled it was; about three hours later. I excitedly got all decked out in my gym clothes. However, I pushed and I pushed, and I could not get the machine to really work. Tne resistance was way too high no matter what I did to change it. I was devastated. I tried again and again. Finally, I saw the writing on the wall and gave up.   I returned it online.  I went to Sears the next day and tried out all their machines and ordered one right there and then. But I had to wait for it to come and be assembled.

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What could I do in the meanwhile? Well, I did what underdog, but determined Rocky did. Well, in my own way. I went up and down my staircase that has 18 steps. I did this exercise for a good 30 minutes. My heart rate went up and sweat beads came down. But it was mentally exhausting. I kept going up and down and not getting anywhere. It was somewhat deflating. I had to, at times, do the victory dance at the top of the stairs in order to motivate myself to keep going. By the end of 30 minutes, I literally fell exhausted onto my bed.   I was done. More power to Rocky Balboa. On a seperate note, I have done the run up the 72 stone steps before the entrance of the Philadelphia Museum of Art, in Philadelphia. I don’t ever really want to run up that many stairs again for a workout. I’ll stay inside with my air conditioning. 

 

 

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Categories: Psychology

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