Feelin' the burn

Today I joined a gym.

Then I worked out in it.

It's 24-Hour Fitness, but it's brand new and totally awesome.

It's me to the power of 24.

There are devices there I didn't even know existed.

There are machines with personal TVs for those nights when I need to exercise but don't want to miss the program du jour, lest I neglect the television habit I've nurtured so vehemently during unemployment. I figure any one of those contraptions torches at least a few more calories than the couch I've inhabited for the past two months.

In the wise words of Kanye West, "one and two and four and get those sit ups right and tuck your tummy tight and do your crunches like this."

Or equally insightful words from "Saved By the Bell" circa 1990, "put your mind to it, go for it, get down and break a sweat, rock and roll, you ain't seen nothin' yet."
(If you're around my age, you're lying if you say you don't know what I'm talking about.)

I'm so stoked to get back into a regular exercise routine. I've been running, but not as much as I used to nor as much as I should.

Today's workout of running and stairs lasted an hour, but only because I was embarrassed to leave any earlier.

Now I'm tired, but high on the idea of feeling less tired after a comparable workout in a few months. Maybe even a class or two. Maybe Pilates. Or spinning. Maybe both.

In our great state of California we have a very astute governor. He likes to work out. Pump iron. Grab a front row ticket to the gun show. Anyway, he says,

“The resistance that you fight physically in the gym and the resistance that you fight in life can only build a strong character.”

I'm goin' every day.

I want to be as cool as the Arnold.