Did I say I did about ten minutes on the stair climber Tuesday night? That was obviously a lie. I may have spent ten minutes figuring the thing out, but tonight I did three minutes (a new personal record, by the way) and my butt was certifiably kicked. I felt like one of those guys behind old Judah Ben Hur. I spent most of my post-weight-lifting cardio on the elliptical, followed by a long slow stroll on the treadmill, just to see if the knee would stay settled down. It’s been a little over two hours now, and It feels pretty good.
I introduced a couple of new exercises into the weight regimen. Brad suggested that my program was imbalanced, placing too much emphasis on pushing (chest and arms) and not enough on pulling (shoulders and back). My back has most of the history you might expect from an obese middle-aged man, so I’m eager to do whatever will strengthen things back there. I tried a couple of new machines. Both are rowing machines. On one you pull handles straight toward you horizontally and on the other you lean forward with your chest on a bench support and pull up diagonally. I was able to pull a reasonable amount of weight, and completed my sets. Sitting here at my keyboard, I am feeling (yes, I’m going to say it) muscles I didn’t know I had. High in my back, between the points of my shoulder blades, I can tell that something was working that isn’t used to it. It isn’t sore, exactly. Just kind of alive in that jolted suddenly awake way that Molly gets when you sneak up on her during a nap.
I'm going to try the cable rowing machine next time.
Saturday morning, Brad is going to teach me some free-weight exercises, just to change up my routine a little. Maybe that will get the fat furnace burning again.
It feels good to wake up sleeping muscles. But not as good as running that first full mile is going to feel. Patience. Patience.
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