I like it when The Ferret writes about exercise. I don't like working out either. I like the smug feeling of having exercised. I like knowing I can heft a pair of twenty pound cat litter boxes from the pet store to my car without using a shopping cart. I like going up the three storeys to my office and not being out of breath at the top of the stairs. But the actual getting sweaty part I could do without.
I do like the moment when I start to sprint, one golden moment when you hit top speed, before your body catches up with what you've just made it do and starts protesting that it's not built for this and it can't do it even one second longer and you have to force it to continue anyway. But when it's dark and cold outside and I'm reduced to using the gym at work with its machines of torture, the only bright spot is when I do the last turn on the weights machine, toss the hand towel in the laundry bin and head for the shower, because it's over and I can get on with my life.
Exercise is another in the long list of "responsible but no fun at all" things you just have to do, like paying the bills, eating stuff that's good for you but tastes like carpet, and buying home improvements with the spare money instead of blowing it on a cool holiday in New Zealand. So today I'm going back to the gym after a month away and it's not going to be fun. I'll get my three workouts a week and feel better for it, but I've given up on expecting to enjoy it.
There won't be any pictures this week because the latch broke on my beloved Mac PowerBook and the Apple Store has it until Friday to do a warranty fix. I'm not happy the stupid thing broke but whining won't bring it back any faster, I've already tried. Thank goodness for the one year warranty! I expected better quality from Apple though, it's only three months old and parts shouldn't be dropping off so soon.