I've been working out regularly since I joined a fitness center at age 23. The main reasons that I work out are that afterwards, my mind is clearer, my body is more limber, and I feel less stress. Still, sometimes it's hard to get myself up and going. If I think about it, I'll come up with excuses:
*I could skip it and do some work instead
*how boring watching the minutes pass
*how the heck am I going to get enough energy to make my body do that hard work and move fast enough to get my heart rate up
So I don't think. I just grab my iPod and heart rate monitor and go.
After the first few hard minutes I always find that I don't want to be anywhere else. Movement and Music, the M&Ms of life. I have often thought about how much I enjoy something as basic as moving. I am neither a dancer nor graceful, so I when I say "movement" I am referring to walking or jumping or running around.
Music makes me want to jump around. Music calls up emotions and memories of old times. Music lyrics often speak to me (not a surprise if you've read any of my other blogs). I read a short SciFi story about how music is emotion, and a couple of my Teaching Company courses mentioned this connection as well. But analyzing these connections might take the fun out of it. Enough said.
An example of a typical workout:
I'm warming up on the stair climber and Stairway to Heaven kicks in and my thoughts turn to how a stairway to heaven ties into the morning's lecture from PGTL (philosophy as a guide to living). I am also gleaning enjoyment from the fact that the sounds I am hearing were digitized from our very own vinyl record that we bought in the 70s - the wonderful pops and scratches! I doubt that anyone else in the rec center is listening to anything like that on their
iPod. Then Bruce Springsteen's Pink Cadillac comes on, pure fun, I bounce along, remembering actually seeing a pink cadillac back when I grew up, near Hollywood, cruising Van Nuys Boulevard. A few more tunes and I'm pushing my heartrate up to my max and virtually singing at the top of my lungs with Maroon 5 - but no! It's time to quit and go to the resistance machines. Dang.
I found the above photo on the web, hope they don't mind. Click on read more
for the (partial) lyrics of Pink Cadillac and more (stolen) photos.
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