One of my primary motivations for going back to the gym (having been an on-again-off-again exercizer for years) was my line. Not so much the weight control or the warding off of the heart disease that riddles my family history like a Shel Silverstein poem, but my line. I have a special line down my middle that defines itself when I'm exercizing and I love it. After just two trips to the YMCA I have it again! Woo! That's the good part. The not-so-good? I reach my "target heart rate" for cardio exercizing at a speed of just 3.7 miles per hour- that's like a brisk walk. Not a power walk, but an it's cold out and I'm trying to get someplace warm a few blocks away kind of walk. That was an unpleasant surprise. A pleasant surprise, though, was the strength-training circuit with two machines just made for somebody who has to wear a strapless dress with corset-lace-ups in six months but can't even do a chin-up. `Love that place. Just love it.
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