Yep. I started exercising again. Two miles on the treadmill followed by ten minutes on a stepmill is about all I can take without wanting to puke. Wait, that's not quite right; I want to puke, I just...don't. Or, I haven't...yet.
The stepmill is new for me and, while I ran a good "old-fashioned" Stairmaster into the ground back in the day, the stepmill is kicking my ass. Seriously, it's like the ghost of Stairmaster Past has come back with the sole intention of making me cry in front of strangers and, if I could go back in time to apologize to that Stairmaster, I totally would just to make the pain go away.
Alas, the torture is necessary if I am to halt the advance of my ass, which is, even as we speak, threatening to invade Switzerland. And, I suppose I could just give up food but, I mean, we don't want to get all crazy up in here. Plus, Lent is just around the corner so I see no sense in giving up sugar before I absolutely have to.
So, torture by treadmill and stepmill it is. If you happen to attend my local gym, please disregard the woman weeping in the corner; it's just me.
I'm right there with you sister, minus the public gym & stair machine. I am back at it on my treadmill but in the privacy of my own garage. Which is good because I talk to myself A LOT and sweat excessively when I exercise. Good times.
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