Mom recently got a membership to the gym I work out at. Now, we work out together. It's good because I am more inclined to go when I have a workout buddy.
My usual workout is 30-50 minutes on the elliptical machine and then some weight training. Usually my arms and back. We're starting to see some big 'uns at work, and I need to be stronger so I can move them without hurting myself. Let me tell you, moving a 500+ pound patient from one side of the bed to the other is not for the faint of heart.
Anyway, I tried something different just to gauge how my knee would react, and I hopped on a regular treadmill, and cranked it up pretty high, running at a fairly good clip. I was pleased immensely to find that my knee wasn't even bothered. However, I do need to look at getting a better sports bra before I do anymore of this running stuff. It's hard to focus on running when you are constantly worried about giving yourself a concussion with your ginormous sweater kittens.
However, it gives me hope when I think that I can resume running. I used to run in my younger years. I used to be good at it. It's another option to do during the day when I have nothing better to do.
On my periphery, I noticed some guy hopped on the treadmill next to me. Unfortunately, that one was broken, so he moved a couple ones down. After I stopped running, I glanced over at the guy and realized that I knew him. Back from my church days in the singles congregation. I yelled his name and he looked at me, and stumbled. Oops.
I wandered over and started gabbing. It's been years since I've talked to him. Gosh, something to the tune of five years or more. While we were talking, he cranked his treadmill up at a full sprint. And he maintained his normal conversation with me while he was doing it. Ass. Had I been charging that fast on a treadmill, the only words I would be able to muster is "Call 911!"
At any rate, he was always nice when we went to church together. I remember once when I was a CPR instructor, I had a class for the singles group. I was demonstrating the Heimlich, and he was my volunteer. Before we began, I told him not to do the abdominal thrusts because a) I wasn't choking and b) because it wouldn't feel nice to a person who wasn't choking. He did it anyway, lifting me a foot off the ground as he did so, almost making dinner from earlier make a second appearance.
Mom told me I should have given him my phone number. I just shrugged. He's still big into church. Me, not so much. What would I say? "I don't attend church AND I sell sex toys. Want to hang out???"
The missionaries would probably be on my doorstep the following day.