Morning Torture Time

Though my sweet Helen works just part time for the Hilton Corporation she gets awesome bennies. One of those perks is a deep, deep discount on stays at any of the affiliated rental cribs.

LOVE this. For the most part, whenever I’ve booked a room here in the US of A, it’s been at your basic No Tell Motel. Cheaper the better. The Holiday Inn would be my big splurge BUT, after a few less than stellar experiences, I’ve ixnayed that chain.

In any case, like most (all?) high end hostelries, This place we’re at has a pool, hot tub (!!!) and a gym. Cool, eh?

Helen rose at 5:30 and was full of energy. Yes, yez. We are SO related! She suited up and announced that we were going to the gym for our morning workout.

*GROAN*

Sure, I could’ve bagged. I could’ve said ‘Nah, I gotta sit here, drink coffee and play my online Scrabble games.’ Did I? ‘Course not. Since I didn’t get a chance to trike yesterday AND a solid daily workout is mega important for mood elevation/stabilization and clear sinuses as well as weight loss, I had to go.

OK, OK, the real motivating force? I just knew I’d feel guilty later. On this once a year Just Us celebratory weekend, we’re overindulging on both comestibles and the fruit of the vine. That second glass ‘o’ vino was gonna taunt me ‘I’m gonna go right to your hips, you old cow’ as it went down. I knew it.

NOT inspirational or engaging!

So, Helen and I entered the exercise room—a place chock full of giant, bulky, intimidating machines which all bore a striking resemblance to Imperial Walkers. Helen’s torture device of choice was the elliptical. There were two of these beasts. I could’ve joined her. Did I?

You know I didn’t! I was willing to move, to exercise but, please, let’s not get carried away. Luckily, there was a stationary bike. It was programmable too. I went for the fat burner option—an hour long bout of obscenely boring torment. Why boring? Dammit, there’s nothing to see. All the hills are virtual. Yes, there’s that damnable little screen that shows my progress but that’s not the same as being outside, whizzing past the glorious bay, the trees, flowers and interesting houses, struggling up the hill at one end of the big marsh.

Also, I only mention it but pics of Daniel Craig scaling that cliff in Cowboys and Aliens would be way more inspirational for me than this damn screen. Maybe that’s just me.

If this was my only workout option, if I couldn’t get outside, I’d surely have to learn how to meditate. I’d need to be able to go full metal Mushin to get through an hour of that on a daily basis.

Alright already, I know that learning how to meditate makes sense anyway but I need a good push like those blasted machines.