The exercise portion of my 100,000 calorie plan – the only quantifiable piece this haphazard plan includes – began today. My wife and I, for the second time in two weeks, showed up at the place where we exercise, only to find out for the second consecutive time we didn't know the Sunday hours. Last time we were too late, this time too early.
We filled the time by preparing some New Year's letters. Yes, yes, I'm perfectly aware most people send Christmas letters, not New Year's letters, but we are not cliché … at least in this facet of life. Regardless, we used our time wisely, and now the gym was open and we were on our way.
My wife and I are exercising for vastly different reasons. She's been advised that being in good shape offers a higher percentage chance of having a less painful labor. Pain avoidance always seems like a good motivator.
Meanwhile, my motivation is all over the map. Impending papa status. Feeling winded after climbing 16 steps on the way to bed. Having to sit down to tie my shoes. Spilling on my shirts each day when my belly inevitably bumps the table in front of me.
One admittedly odd motivator is this blog. I came up with the idea to change my caloric intake by 100,000 calories and record the stories here, whether successful or unsuccessful, and the number one way to accomplish that will be involving exercise in my weekly routine.
Well, here's a story for you.
We arrive at the gym, and it's been open less than an hour, yet the room we're in is packed. My wife and I bump into a fellow teacher and discuss going back to work tomorrow and the guaranteed chaos that will ensue with the students who have lived less structured existences for the past 10 days. Next I wave at a parent of a few former students. He's listening to music and in the middle of his workout so I skip stopping to talk to him, although it's always fun hearing how his kids are doing.
Next, we head to the treadmills. I type in my weight, age and a few other details the machine requires so as to give me an accurate reading of my calories burned. I want an accurate reading, as this is my only empirical data, my lone statistical evidence that I'm on my way to ridding myself of 100,000 calories. I type in 45-minutes, which should be enough to burn about 500 calories. My favorite part of using the treadmill is that it gives you an exact distance walked and exact calories burned.
I set my Time magazine on the treadmill and begin to read Joel Stein, one of my new favorite writers. I've used blurbs from his columns to help teach writing to my students. This column, much like all of his columns, is not only hilarious, but poignant and a great comment on society. I look down and I'm one-third of the way through, 15 minutes and 166 calories burned. On pace for 500 calories burned, but as previously mentioned I'll get an exact number at the end and record it here.
Next, I read a story about a Burmese rebel leader fighting for peace in her country. An amazing story, although the hope for peace is not bright, which sends my thoughts elsewhere momentarily.
Suddenly, I am brought back to the here and now by a man standing next to my treadmill. It is the guy I saw earlier, the parent of two of my former students and he's come over to say hello. I always enjoy talking to him, not only to hear about what his children are up to, but also because he's an avid golfer, which is one of my passions, too.
We talk for awhile, mostly he talking, me listening. He tells me one of his kids will be graduating this spring and may go on to pharmacy school. Another is applying for a summer internship in Europe. A third child is competing on the college rowing team, a Division I athlete. All three go to the same school.
He mentions a golf excursion he's hoping to pull off this summer, which is about when I realize my time on the treadmill has finished. I grab some paper towels and wipe off the machine, end the conversation with my friend and say good bye.
As I walk to the coat rack and put on my coat I realize something: I never looked to see how many calories I burned. I race back to the machine only to realize it's already reset for the next walker.
I don't even have to tell my wife what's happened. She knows me well enough.
The only quantifiable portion of my 100,000 calorie experiment will have to be a "guesstimate" for exercise session number one as I forgot to record it. We'll chalk this up as an unsuccessful story, but in the end it's still success as I know I've burned calories and feel good about it J. I just wish I knew the exact amount. L
EXERCISE SESSION #1, calories burned: 500 (my best "guesstimation").
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