13. GET OFF YOUR ARSE PART 2....

You know what the trouble with exercise is?

It hurts. This is not any kind of shock disclosure I’m sure. The super fit lunatic fringe even gloat about it. No Pain – No Gain.

I described in one of my first posts how much fun I had the first time I climbed back into the saddle and tried to ride to the front gate and back. Well I did the same ride today (actually it was that ride plus to the school and back so actually a fair bit longer....cause I’m a ‘kn athlete) and while it is clearly obvious to me that I’m a hell of a lot fitter now than I was then, it still hurt like a bastard grinding up the hills. It’s just that the period for which it hurts is slightly less.

Possibly because of the whole pain thing, I’ve never been the kind of guy who can exercise just for the sake of exercising. I need to have a purpose.

When I was in Year 9 (about 14 or 15 years old) we moved house from a place quite close to my school to a place quite a bit further away. This is the point at which I started riding to school, also as previously mentioned, down the very busy Pennant Hills Road every morning. Putting the danger to the side for a moment (with the rugged individualism that is my trademark), it was bloody good exercise.  I did it every morning because I had to (I’m trying to remember how my brother got to school during this time and I can’t – weird).

Worst thing that happened to me during that period was when I finally got my bus pass. Because once I had an option that didn’t include sweat and traffic and having to ride in grey slacks up a 4km hill every afternoon and DID include hanging out at the bus stop and a slim chance of making conversation with the one or two girls from my year who also walked in the general vicinity of my bus stop, it was all over red rover and welcome to the world of teenage weight gain.

I rode absolutely everywhere when I lived in Canberra because I didn’t have a car. Likewise once I got into Uni. When my parents again moved in my second year of University (I’m starting to notice a pattern here) I regularly had to ride 8 kms down to a nearby car ferry and then another 6 or 7 up the other side to catch a train and then another 5 from the station to the University. And then back again in the afternoon.

It doesn’t even need to be forced entirely. Later on, even when I had a car I could still talk myself into riding to work because I was riding TO WORK. Just don’t ask me to hop on a bike (or run or swim) and ride from random point A to random point B for no discernable reason. It just doesn’t work for me.

My current motivation is of course the whole wanting to see my daughter graduate high school/university/get married/elected as Prime Minister which is turning out to be an absolute cracker. Wish I’d thought of it a bit earlier really.

NEXT: That was a bit boring – here’s a photo of a tire...