I am certain I was the oldest guy in our morning Athletic Conditioning class early this morning. Somebody has to be eldest but I am not elderly. Anyway, we did it in the parking lot, 36 guys and gals of all ages and all levels of fitness. At this point, I keep up with most of the gals but not all the guys, many of whom can sprint past me, especially the high school kids. That sucks for me but I have determination.
The thing is that everybody sort-of bonds in these classes in their efforts, like boot camp. Everybody makes it fun and cheers on each other, even the laggards.
I had two thoughts about today's exercise party. First, calisthenic-type exercise is much more fun in groups. Everybody works harder, not competitively but inspirationally. Second, avoiding groups and social isolation truly do make people insane in a way by providing no societal reality testing. Or maybe people isolate to protect their personal insanity from outside reality checks. You have to learn where you stand, and how you connect. That thought was from one of Peterson's sentences, but I saw that even something like an exercise class is a social and socially-correcting event.
This morning's exercise routines below the fold -
We were outdoors, 48 degrees F. Warm-up:
4 circuits of the parking lot, running jump rope
4 circuits of the parking lot, side-shuffle chest pass heavy balls
4 circuits of the parking lot, 1/2 sprints and 1/2 jogs
2 circuits of the parking lot, 1/2 lunges and 1/2 back-pedaling
The rest of the hour was a 5-ring circus of the following one-minute efforts until the hour was done (yes, we dragged the row erg machines outdoors):
Row erg races
Kettlebell swings
Push-ups
Planks, all sorts
Running in place with viper lifts
Band lifts of all sorts
After that, I spent a couple of hours in the office to make a living, then had a leftover steak sandwich and went on a two-hour hike in the woods with the Mrs. after she got home from her Yoga and checking in on her parents.
Supper tonight with friends, and I am thinking some oysters and some meat, and a glass or two of wine.
For our foreign readers, that's your slice of life in Yankeeland...
