Exercise

I hate exercise.

"hate" is not a word I use lightly. I strongly reprimand my kids for it and almost never use it myself. But I fucking hate exercise.

I mean, what? Exercise for the sake of getting fitter? Get a life!

Tell you what I like: sex. And dancing. And climbing. And other stuff. Powerful exercise when done right.

I've already watched most of my closest peers disapeer (sic) through all manner of ailments and I prevail, completely exercise-free.

I also love to cycle. At least once a week. Hard, so you want to pass out or puke blood. Once a week is enough. Same for the other things.

A good friend of mine, who is a serious workout-aholic, told me that my legs are like steel, so I reckon that's enough validation for anyone. I continue living and staying fit regardless.

Sometimes when I'm dancing alone I'll grab a kettlebell and swing it about. I let me body tell me where work needs done. As Lieutenant General Lewis Burwell “Chesty” Puller, once said, “pain is weakness leaving the body.”. This is my guide. Push through that and get strong.

But not injury, that would be stupid. I had a phase couple years back of breaking ribs (activity 1, mostly), and for weeks on end I couldn't exercise. Physically.

In these times I continued to exercise mentally. I remember reading many years back, a study where some people exercised nightly and the others simply visualised exercising and the results were almost identical. It works. Bodybuilders; imagine doing both?

And this keeps me strong in the downtime. Five minutes before bed is plenty if, again; done right. Dancing about with a kettlebell doesn't feel like exercise, it feels like dancing.

And like so, I exercise, and love it.

;o)