Dearest Rachel –
Setting aside the whole process of building up my initial motivation every morning – which basically consists of stepping on the scale and realizing I’m back over a line I’d just as soon put in my rear view mirror – my workout routine has basically become a matter of ascertaining and pushing my limits. How much weight can I push around on this or that machine, and can I endure adding one more weight to it? As an aside, why is it that I’ve topped out the one abdominal machine at 190, but I’m straining to get past 120 on the other one, for what amounts to the same activity? How fast can I start my uphill walk, can I maintain a regular 0.1 mph increase with every hundred calories burned, and can I actually cover five miles in the allotted hour and five minutes? That sort of thing.
But I think I’ve finally (already?) reached my limit in terms of just getting there in the first place; it’s just too much to walk through for a third of a mile either way.
Yesterday, for instance, was tolerable in terms of temperature, but once I felt the first few drops of rain on my head, I decided to return to at least get a hat, only to find my car keys first and decide to use it to get there instead. This morning, on the other hand, was nearly twenty degrees colder than yesterday – and while there wasn’t nearly the same threat of precipitation as there had been then, I couldn’t bring myself to trek that distance in that cold for the ten minutes or so it would take to get me there. And that’s to say nothing of having to cover the same distance in reverse, only while tired and dripping wet (which would then freeze on my in that limited amount of time; it didn’t quite manage that much as I made my way to the car afterwards, but I’m already dreading the time when, in a couple of months, that will be entirely possible in those few seconds).
Math doesn’t work on temperatures the way it does with distance, honey; there’s not so much of a sense of moving from point A to point B as there are changes against a fixed point that someone has arbitrarily decided to call “zero.” One might look at the thermometer yesterday and today, and assert that the temperature has been cut in half in comparison (if one uses the imperial Fahrenheit scale), or that it’s straight-up inverted itself from positive to negative (on the metric Celsius scale). Neither scale conveys the effect of the weather and wind on exposed skin, and the discomfort it evokes; raw numbers simply can’t describe what it’s like to walk out in.
All I can say is that the decrease, while not enough to convince me to turn around and go back into the house and curl up with a good book (or, more likely, one or another of my computers), is enough for me to decide to hop into the old chariot and take it to the fitness center rather than struggle through the biting cold in my limited wardrobe. With any luck, I might even get there before the sensors notice that I haven’t bothered with my seat belt, and start pinging to remind me to put it on. Believe me, I know it’s not fastened; I just want to be able to hop out of the car and get into the gym that much faster. Even more so on my way out; I don’t want to get any more of my sweat on the upholstery than I absolutely have to, and as early as I’m up and about, I don’t think I’ll be dealing with any more people on the road than I am in the parking lot; once I’m out of here, it’s smooth sailing to drive those four-tenths of a mile back.
The return trip is the real consideration, though. Whatever I decide to do as I leave the house, whether walking or driving, I’m committed to repeat on my trip back. It leaves me a little helpless to walk, for instance, only for the weather to worsen (like yesterday with the threatening rain), leaving me with no choice but to bear with it when I could have gotten the trip over with so much quicker. Ten to fifteen minutes of cold (or worse, rain) either way might serve to force my body to burn calories to keep me warm, but those are a hard ten to fifteen minutes to endure. And while I don’t usually have time constraints to deal with, today I do have a place or two to be at, so if I can get this over with that much faster, so much the better. If I have to be outside walking in this, I’d rather it be at midday with Lars; at least it might be warmer once the sun is up and out.
All these thoughts about how cold it is – and how cold it’s progressively going to get – has me thinking that I might actually want to get somewhere warm by January or February of next year, despite previously claiming that my next trip won’t be until I finally take you to where you wanted to go after waiting for over four years. But that’s probably a story for another time.
For now, I’m just going to ask you to keep an eye on me, honey, as always. Oh, and wish me luck; I’m going to need it.
Letters to Rachel 