I'm just starting the third week of my latest adventure. It may prove to be my most ambitious project since my retirement of just over a year ago. It certainly tops my Costco experience, which was ill-timed and short lived, as it lasted just ten days. A more recent endeavour, of which many of you are all too familiar, was a four week and two day penal sentence at the Confederation Building. It was a self imposed imprisonment and certainly does not reflect upon the nice people that I met during my short time there. I chose to loose the shackles when it became apparent that I was a victim of double jeopardy. I had already served a twenty one year sentence for second guessing the justice system. Suddenly, there I was, back chasing the so-called bad guys, when I was no longer sure where the line, that supposedly separates the crooks from the do-gooders, falls. I've beaten that one to death over the last year in several stories, so I'll let that sleeping dog lie.
My latest and greatest preoccupation is to go to the gym. Maybe I shouldn't be comparing it to the jobs I had at Costco and with the provincial government, as exercise is supposed to be a lifestyle, not an occupation. After years of sitting on my ass, believe me, getting to the gym is a heck of a lot of work. It is certainly much tougher than cruising the aisles of Costco, waiting for elderly ladies to try and hide a case of toilet paper under their sweaters. It's also way more difficult than sitting in my cubicle on the 4th floor of the West Block, looking at my computer screen while trying to remember which of the dozen or so passwords got me into the program I was trying to use.
Exercise is the unheralded cure-all for just about every affliction. It's somewhat ironic that it is also the activity that we give up when our life situations become increasingly difficult to manage. That was certainly the case for me. During the last 7 or 8 years of my policing career, my responsibilities grew and my commitment to being a cop grew along with them. My gym bag was my constant companion at at the office. That was the problem, it just stayed in the office and never headed down the hallway to the well equipped gym that was situated in our building. I believed I was just too busy. I was shooting myself in the foot and not even realizing it.
I'm actually enjoying the sweat and pain that comes with asking my body do things it hasn't done very often these last few years. I can actually feel some of the jiggling as it becomes a little more toned. I've never really been one to regard weight as a definitive measure of fitness. Despite this, I did know what I weighed prior to beginning to exercise, so I was curious as to what I would weigh after two weeks of daily aerobic workouts. Holy crap, I was actually three pounds heavier! Sure, muscle is heavier than fat, but come on! I'll keep at it in the hopes that something gives on the weight front in the next few weeks. If not, I'll think about giving up.... (at least cutting back) on the oatmeal raisin cookies I have every day at my Starbucks office.
I ususally come to the gym just after Lynda and the kids are gone off to work and school. It's not overly busy there at that time. There are a few thirty something ladies, but the majority of the gym goers at that time are older gents. I assume that, like me, most of them are retired. I often hear chatter in the locker room about the expected increase to CPP and OAS or how hockey is just not the same as it was when Hull and Howe were the stars of the NHL. Now that's Bobby and Gordie, not Brett and Mark. Remember, my gym going compatriarts are old.
The gym has great facilities for us retired folks. There is a sauna and a hot tub for us to regenerate our aching bodies following a workout. Well, just this morning, I was telling my hot tub buddies how the circulating water was therapeutic for my stiff back and how the hot water also soothed the inflamed haemorrhoids I have been experiencing of late. Suddenly, I was alone in the hot tub. My friends said they just remembered they had to meet their wives for shopping. Apparently, they are headed to Costco because it's a great place to get toilet paper.
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