Indoor Trainers

I'm determined to do the cardio work today, I both hate it and crave it. How messed up is that? So I dawdle and stall in the locker room and finally man up. I'm here aren't I? Time to pay the piper.

As I'm just getting ready for the first work interval at the ghost town gym (AT Everest was a no show - I hope she's OK), IronMan strolls in, shortly followed by goodMood. It's early for them. They probably read my blog and fear (as they should) that I would rat them out like I just did AT Everest. awesomeGirl was also absent, I hope she's OK too!

After I get through the first work interval I ponder the latest text messages I've gotten from TomS. TomS is enjoying his new bike but the weather has turned to crap of late and giving all of us a big heads up on the approach of winter. This has focused TomS (who sadly lacks an awesome gym like I have access to, and even though he BEGS me I refuse to marry him so that he'll get spousal access, I'm just not into that whole polygamy thing) on bike trainers.

I did a brief scan and liked the 1up trainer. Yesterday afternoon at 6:05pm I'm staring at the following text.

TomS: Okay I sent a reply to an earlier email about the Kurt kinetic line of trainers. You were supposed to evaluate them and give me your assessment. What's with the delay?

Bill: Having already selected the 1up trainer for you all research stopped unless you can get me federal aid through some stimulus package. Plus I don't recall the email.

TomS: I sent it around 4:00. Plenty of time to do the research.

Bill: Ahhh thanks for all the background links etc ::rolls eyes:: I'll post my results to your facebook wall after dinner.

TomS: I didn't want to curb your creativity.

I looked at the trainer, selected the Kurt Kinetic Pro Trainer and promptly put it on my Amazon wish list where it will rot along with other things Bill can't afford.

Given all the nagging I should probably just go ahead and marry TomS and be done with it.

Somewhere around the seventh work interval ponyTail strolls in and hops on a treadmill. I give her a bleary (I take my glasses off due to excessive sweating) wave from the bike.

I finally (YAY!) stagger off the thing, wipe it down, stumble around oxygen deprived and endorphin stupid before dragging out a BOSU ball and sitting on some Nike steps trying to work up the will for some situp/getups and deciding yakking with IronMan, who's doing some sort of situp with a weight on his chest, before 'stretching' his back and nearly falling asleep, might be needed. It's been awhile since I saw the lad.

So we're jawing about our various woes and I'm trying to figure out how to hook him up with TomS when goodMood strolls by saying he's done. If goodMood's done, we're all done, well except for ponyTail who kept hammering along. I might not be a polygamist but I'm all over peer pressure.