Ha! Look at me all adventurous. I made my daughter drive me to the gym.
Right. First task - 24 steps down to even get in the place. Note to self - save energy to come back up these darned things after the "workout".
I went to the gym more for my mental health than anything else. It brings a sense of normalcy, something I did in my past life, a place I enjoy being. If I can get to the gym then I must be getting better.
It was quite the experience. I'm still strong - that's good news, but I have no endurance and NO coordination. Trying to avoid classic Sarah too-much-too-soon, I chose to do half the reps at whatever comfortable weight, for whichever equipment I was comfortable trying out. Free weights are too tricky - no way I can carry them to where I need to be. I could only handle three leg exercises before my brain freaked out. It was really struggling to process my right leg participating but with no feedback. I also struggled a bit with the equipment. I'd never really thought about how complicated it actually is, physically, to use weight equipment. The logistics of adjusting, setting, sitting and reaching are a whole lot more than you think they are.
I managed to get in a couple of upper body exercises before the desperate search for a mat strategically located beside something sturdy to help me stand up. Down is easy, standing up from floor level ... complicated! (Lie down on the floor then try to stand up using only one leg ... tough!)
So ... it was neither sexy nor glamourous, nor did it particularly do anything to increase my strength or endurance, but it was good for my sanity. I can't compare myself to two months ago, but if I compare myself to what I could do four weeks ago, there is some progress.
But best of all, I can say it only took me two months to get back in the gym.
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