Are We Sick of Winter Yet?

It's nearly the end of February and already I hear whining in the locker room about boredom and cabin fever. It's not been THAT bad a winter! I recall much worse where every weekend was spent shoveling out the driveway until we had no place left to put the snow, and the walled mounds grew high over our heads, our cars burrowed in white tunnels. No wonder the supermarket was empty instead of being packed with panicked shoppers. Ice storm tonight? Heard it before. Everyone's jaded now. I wonder if that also applies to the gym folk.

I get to Gold's a little before 9 am today but parking is ample. Last week's mad rush was an anomaly due either to Winter Break, or a weigh-in at the local Weight Watchers next door. I didn't even know one existed until a trainer told me that poor lost souls wander into Gold's, looking for the weekly weigh-in meetings.

The Precor's are desserted. Yay for me! I get on my favorite elliptical (#3) and punch in 30 minutes. Although my average pace is about 195 SPM, with an occasional foray up to 215 or down to 189, I manage to do slightly better than 4 miles, and I'm happy. At the Cable Stations, I see B working out with her new bud, D. We nod at each other and continue our routines. Later, between my 2nd and last set of Pull Ups, she comes over, breathless and excited. Because I can use the rest, I ask her how her new workout differs from her last.

She tells me that now she only does 2-3 exercises per body part, that D tells her she's been overworking herself. She feels much better now, stronger, less fatigued. I smile and nod. I've told her the same things, but B only hears advice from men. Doesn't bother me at all. After all, I'm not her workout partner, so I don't really care what she does. But it's nice to not hear her moaning and complaining. Later I see her using some light DBs with M on the steps near the mats. It's the first time I've seen her do anything with M other than chat on the stair climber.

Today's Total Workout:
35 min cardio = 4.07 miles
Seated Cable Rows: 12 @ 90 lbs / 12 @ 105 lbs / 3 x 10 @ 120 lbs (wearing gloves in addition to the padded grips is bulky but seems to help me do my sets without crushing my fingers)
I don't like to slam or drop the weights so I try to make all my movements very controlled, and if possible, silent. No grunting and groaning, pleeeease!
Lower Back Extension: 25 @ 90 lbs (too light! What was I thinking?) / 25 @ 97.5 lbs
Cage Stretch & Kicks (I'm getting bored so I'll have to add some different stretches)
Smith Rack Pull Ups: 12 / 10+2 / 12+2 (I like very controlled movements so I make a point of not swinging, not shaking or wriggling my way up)
(I take a 5 minute break between the 2nd and last set of pull ups to chat with B)
Bent-Over Reverse Grip BB Rows: 15 @ 70 lbs / 6 x 15 @ 75 lbs (the last set makes my back feel tired so I'm not even considering upping the weight)
Alternate DB Curls: 3 x 12 @ 20 lbs
Concentration Curls: 3 x 12 @ 20 lbs
Flat Bench Twisting Sit Ups: 125
Lower Ab Kick Outs: 100
Torso Twist Machine: 2 x 25 @ 50 lbs
Lower Back Extension (again!): 2 x 25 @ 97.5 lbs
Reverse Grip BB Curls: 6 x 20 @ 40 lbs (I'm still grimacing and breathing hard during the last two sets so I figure 6 sets at 40 lbs is where I'll stay for the time being)
Mat Stretch

I'm forced to be extremely focused during the mat stretch because it almost feels like a public display even though the area is against the wall, near the storage room. My stretches are getting better, and because I've got my iPod pumped way up to a fast beat, I move as if I'm doing a choreographed routine. Which, in a way, I am. I want each movement to flow into the next. It's also easier to remember all the stretches if they follow a logical order. I try to get a reasonable stretch for most of my body parts, all the way down to my toes, which I wiggle inside my sock feet as I lean forward with my legs straight out in front of me, and plant my face on my shin.

Teeny black ants keep emerging from the keyboard of my laptop. It's very disconcerting. It also means that somewhere, the teeny black garden ants have decided to move into my kitchen. Or at least my kitchen table. It happens once or twice a year. Some years not at all. But still, between the spiders webbing all my ceiling corners and light fixtures (yes, I have a LOT of spiders in my house), and all the hapless moth bodies suspended from them, and the occasional stinkbug (yes, we have those nasty shield-shaped bugs that we merely trap and let die intact), I've got quite enough insect life. I don't need ants.

The gym scale reads 109.0 and I'm reasonably satisfied, and very tired. I don't think I want to go to kickboxing tonight, never mind the torrential rain and ice storm to follow. I see Mo as I leave. She's trying to garner some enthusiasm for the 30 minutes of cardio she's about to do. Get some good tunes I tell her, but she says that her knees and hips don't allow her to do anything but a brisk walk. So, she watches TV. Egads! I used to do that, and was perennially frustrated at my lack of progress.

I'm still pondering getting certified with some sort of fitness accreditation (NASM, ISSA, etc) as I see that the fitness industry seems to be booming, especially for older people, like us tail-end baby boomers. But there's a huge difference between doing it for yourself, and trying to help other people do it. Of course, once the threat of bare arms and legs gets real (ie, summer), there'll be a ton of folks looking for help. Are we really sick of winter yet? Naw, I don't think so.