Point taken, body

It's amazing what you learn when you start something new. I've learned that changes in diet alone really do have positive impacts on your weight; I've learned that water can actually quench your "hunger;" and this weekend I learned the importance of warming up before exercise.

We've all read the dorky signs that suggest that we actually need to warm up before using exercise machines. We've seen the exercise videos that start with marching in place. And at the same time, we see calm, dry, individuals jump on the treadmill and go full blast. My two days at the gym have shown me what a different experience it can be to warm up first.

I learned this quite by accident. On Saturday I did a few stretches and made my way to the treadmill in the basement of my building, jumped on and took off. Sure, I started slow. Three minutes in, I was good to go and started a brisk jog. About 10 seconds later, my throat was hot, my stomach acid crawled up my esophagus, and the air in my lungs was gone. I desperately slowed down and gulped at the water that did nothing to calm my discomfort. Cursing my physique I continued on, much more slowly, for a pathetic a

nd tragically painful 20 minutes.

Sunday morning I got out of bed and knew that I would continue on in my quest to a better body. Excited that I would enter an empty (or mostly empty) gym I approached the door to find both treadmills filled, one by my new friend from Saturday. Knowing that my now nearly eight year old pelvic fractures prevented me from riding the normal bike, I hopped on to the recumbent bike and peddled (I hope I looked as cool as my f

riends here). Sure, I burned my legs up at high levels, but riding this bike just doesn't get the heart rate up like the treadmill does. 25 minutes later, as I pushed myself to go for 30 minutes, my friend from Saturday motioned to me that he wanted to trade machines with me.

As I hopped on, I worried that my legs were too weak to continue, but thought I'd give it a try. After a few minutes walking uphill, I kicked up the speed and an amazing thing happened: I was fine. Sure, I couldn't keep it up forever, but it was more of a choice than

a demand. For another twenty minutes I proudly jogged and ran uphill, without the same agony as the day before. When I got off, I felt better than ever--I was sweaty, red, and incredibly happy.