People are exercising more and more these days.
Of course along with the dawning of each New Year, an entire flock of resolutions hit the treadmills.
Sometimes it wanes where enthusiasm is driving the will from January 1, then by the time the grass is enjoying the springtime sun, those winter weight loss warriors are dreaming of wallowing by the pool, and those good intensions of winter aren't what they were.
I witness this firsthand at my fitness center each year.
It's evident because at whatever time or day I choose to go spaces in the parking lot are at a premium.
It's also noteworthy to back up a spell and hark back to those days when the last thing I expected was to actually feel guilty, for not spending time the previous day sweating to an elliptical high.
I've always been slender and wished that I sported a 'bulkier' frame.
But my adage had always been, I hate working out! Sports were never my forte, so I lacked the physical activity that usually aids in this area.
Being a male I felt I had a certain obligation to at least try to measure up to where national statistics said I should be.
My older brother had always been into sports, and although our genes did not dictate that we'd grow into behemoths, he at least had the bulk that I wished I had.
Eventually getting frustrated with myself, I'd buy a series of weights and some dumbbells.
I'd do whatever I could at home, but distractions and other activities would usually dominate my thoughts.
It was always...
try again tomorrow.
The 'working at it' part was the hardest.
I expected instant results, and only got instant disappointment.
Fast forward about 20 years.
Still, I hate working out.
But, with age, marriage and a bit more willpower, I stepped-up my home routine, but just enough so that I didn't feel as guilty as I used to.
I still wasn't seeing any noticeable result, but was trying harder.
I'd always rejected the idea of joining a gym, and heard Dr.
Dean Edell on the radio claim that gyms were germy.
Plus, my memories of high school gym class were such that I wasn't too eager to relive those days changing in front of muscled physiques that didn't use deodorant.
Finally though, I came to grips with my phobias.
I visited my local fitness center (as I prefer to call it) took a tour of the joint and realized that not everyone there was like those louts in teenage gym class.
There were older women and older men amongst the exercise crazed, black-tight wearing 20-somethings that have become synonymous with today's fitness clubs.
The louts were there too, but now they seem slightly less intimidating than they did 30 years ago.
Plus, I'm older than they are now! As you may of guessed at this point, I hate working out...
much less than I once did.
After predictably beginning to see results from my efforts, it becomes a natural incentive to continue.
All the objections I once had for joining a gym, now seem foolish.
The time spent goes fast and a feeling of relief and accomplishment usually follow.
Every other day is what I aim for, which seems to be a standard for most people.
I'm also pleased that I've been able to gain a bit of weight! Yes, GAIN a bit, which doesn't seem to occur as easily for me as for the average person.
This of course is due to increased muscle-mass.
My humble suggestion, if when queried about exercise by friends or relatives, you respond, I hate working out...
just consider my experiences.
Once you give it a try, I guarantee it won't seem so bad.