It’s raining like crazy. And it’s windy. I so don’t want to get out of my nice, warm bed. So, I coax one foot out from beneath the toasty covers. That’s it…keep going…now the other one. (I figure, when both feet hit the floor, somehow the rest of me will follow.) Now, push the tush off the bed…you’ve got it…upright and vertical. Wonder Woman’s got nothing on me.
“I’m taking the dog for a walk,” my husband is saying while I’m staring bleary eyed in the bathroom mirror. There’s an unspoken invitation in there, “Would you like to come?”
Let’s see. Is soaked and pummeled on my agenda today? Nope. “Sorry honey, you brave guys will have to go on without me.” Apologetic smile. I am fooling no one. Not even me. I do not want to even think about exercise right now.
Then it happens. Out of the corner of my eye, a glint of stainless steel. I try not to look but there is a monstrous machine drawing my attention. Right in plain sight, a daunting hunk of machinery with long shiny handle bars, gliding foot pads, and a control panel that could maneuver an airplane. They call it an Elliptical Machine. I would prefer to bypass this Machine and proceed straight to the Coffee Machine.
Here’s the thing. My physical body is craving a good dose of oxygen coursing through my sluggish veins. My mind is not persuaded quite yet. In fact, it’s being a bit uncooperative. So, we make a deal. Five minutes. I agree to master that monstrosity with gusto for 5 measly minutes. When 5 minutes are up I can get off and get on with the day. No strings attached. It’s a pretty good deal.
Getting started is the hardest part.
I grab the handles and I get on the beast. As soon as I start walking the timer on the control panel automatically begins. Very convenient. The tension setting on the machine is set for fairly low resistance. Not too tough to handle. In contrast, my personal tension setting is a little high, so I close my eyes and take several slow, deep, relaxing breaths. That’s better. Loosen up a bit. Actually, that felt so good I’ll do that some more. Walk. Breathe. Relax. Repeat.
You probably know what happens next. Five minutes go by and I’m telling myself, “I’ll just keep going for a little longer.” A little longer goes by and I’m glad I got on this thing. Really. It might be 30 minutes, it might be 10, but somewhere past 5 minutes this dubious deal becomes a surprisingly satisfying accomplishment. An unintentional workout. But it does work out. Nearly every time.