So, it’s 2016 and I’m not getting any younger. The last few years have seen me display some slight signs of the impending decreptude inherent in the aging process, of which I am hurtling through at an alarming pace.
I’m 46, and for the first 40 of those years I was as healthy as you like, with virtually no effort on my part. I did a little bit of exercise here and there, but didn’t really need to watch my weight or put much effort in to maintain a basic level of fitness.
While my weight has somehow managed to stick to a healthy-ish 12 1/2 stone my fitness levels have suffered quite a bit. This started, mostly, with me stuffing up my knee in my late 30s, then having a knee operation (ACL reconstruction – ouch!) and becoming a bit of a couch potato. I’ve done a bit of pilates here and there to help with the knee and had a couple of aborted fitness campaigns along the way, but I have finally bitten the bullet and joined a gym.
I started a new job in December at the University of Nottingham. I work at the King’s Meadow Campus and we have own own little gym here. It’s a little compact, but has enough machinary to ensure that I can use something different every day if I wanted – treadmills, cross-trainers, rowing machines and free weights (among a host of other devices). They also run a few fitness programmes throughout the week.
Today I did some pilates-like stretches on the mat before setting myself a bit of a stretch by running 5k on a treadmill. This took me about 32 minutes and caused me to go a bit red in the face.
I can’t say with any honesty that I particularly enjoyed the whole experience, but I do feel a little better afterwards, having stretched out my lungs properly for the first time in years. Perhaps I can put off the decrepitude a little longer. I’ll have a go, seeing as I’ve signed up to the gym for a minimum of 12 months. Might as well use it seeing as I’m paying for it!
(Top photo used through Creative Commons – image courtesy of Farhad sh on Flickr)