The Void and Neztra

I am playing catch up. Can you tell? Watch, after this post, there will be no new ones for another month. Hopefully though, I'll have something interesting to tell you in a couple of days.

So, I bought an elliptical machine. Yes, that's right,

I...voluntarily...bought....a.....torture....device.

Why you ask? Well, anyone who knows me personally would never, ever ask that question. One glance at my rapidly expanding ass (sort of like how the universe is constantly expanding...only my ass is expanding on a more exponential level than even the great universe) is enough said.

I'm 30! I have got to get myself in shape. Now is the time in a person's life when the doctor starts to say things like "cholesterol too high" and "blood pressure to high" and "bottom not high enough". Or maybe my best friends are saying that last one. Anyway, I value their opinion as much as a doctor, so, it is worth stating.

So, I buy this elliptical machine. Nordic Trac, $750. Yes, I paid out my huge bum for this thing. So I had better use it I suppose.

The first night, I put it together with the help of my father. Or maybe he put it together with my help. Eh, he's not writing this blog, so I'll state it my way. See the first sentence in this paragraph. Anyway, they should have said in the instructions, "Putting this big beast together is equal to your first work out in the amount of muscle pain and stubbed toes it will cause you to experience."

The next morning, I awoke to watch the sun rise, glinting off the cold black steel frame and I had to repress a terrified shudder. Oh no! Now I had to actually use it. This sucks.

And it did. It sucked for a whole ten minutes. No really, that's about all I could do the first day. I'll just wait while you finish with your hyena-like laughs, and are able to gasp in some actual usable air again. OK, you done?

Yes, ten whole minutes. I dismounted from the Sadistic Stallion of Shame on wobbly knees and ankles and huffed my way into the kitchen for a nice, cold glass of Riesling. Uh huh, seriously.

The next day was better. I lasted fifteen minutes!

The day after that, I gave my screeching calves and bum a rest.

The next day, I rode the Smug Steed for fifteen minutes at level 5 resistance. Woohoo! I'm doing better!

Today, I was able to get through fifteen real minutes of working out without feeling like I was going to have a coronary right there on the machine. Oh happy day.

Maybe next week I will have worked my way up to a truly staggering twenty minutes.