Saturday, May 24, 2008
Fat Free Living
So it's taken me 4 or 5 weeks to get back into the gym (I've lost count, I can't be sure, that's how bad it is), and so here I am sitting on the bike at some dark chilly hour of the morning, and I'm trying to get my heart rate monitor to acknowledge my existence.
So I'm riding and starting to sweat and the HRM just won't pick up any signal. I say to the oke next to me stuff about the market not acknowledging $135 oil prices as fair value, about the market not realising that there is a simple supply/demand problem, and all the while my heart rate monitor still won't pick up my heart beat. I let my body heat up, and as the sweat begins to trip I try again. Still nothing. I probably go through this process 5 or 6 times.
I start saying to the guy next to me that maybe I haven't lost much fitness. I say that on fietstoer you can transform yourself rapidly in a week, but obviously from very high levels of activity each day. How fit can you get in one day?
I look at my heart rate monitor. Still dead. I lift my shirt, feel fat rolls, and say grimly, absently: you know this thing probably can't feel my heart through all this fat. It probably reckons this is a false alarm anyway, like I am not going to bother to record this fat slugs heart rate once in a while like this.
And like magic, after I had uttered these self deprecations, the heart rate signal began to pop. Once the bubble of our silly fantasies pop, we can start working on the project of living. Real living.