We'll Meet Again

Today was my last day at [solidcore] for the next three months. Not because I can’t work out, to be clear. I could. I’ve done it before, plenty of times. It’s that I am not about to pay to Uber myself back and forth across the city at 5:30 in the morning while I can’t drive.

In nearly every previous surgery (all but one), I crutched my way into the Cathedral Commons studio and did Arms + Abs two or three times a week, cast and all. This time I’m doing something different. I’m switching to heavy lifting twice a week at Strength Training DC, and I’ll have a lot more to say about that in the coming weeks. The short version: the studio is literally behind my house, and I am completely sold on the methodology. When the recovery gods hand you a gym you can hobble to, you take it.

But first, let me pour one out for my beloved [solidcore].

It is, besides running, the only form of exercise I have stuck with religiously and regularly since January 3, 2014. That’s twelve and a half years of sweating it out on those reformer machines, two or three times a week. It is, hands down, the best resistance training I have ever done. Pair it with cardio and some heavy weights once or twice a week, and it got me into the best shape of my life at 51. Well. Except for the feet, natch. The feet have their own agenda.

So consider this a temporary goodbye, not a breakup. I’ve committed to returning by October 1 at the absolute latest, and earlier than that if I can sweet-talk someone into clearing me to drive sooner.

To everyone who has ever survived hamstring day, you already know why I picked the photo. It is, without question, the worst (read: hardest) day on the schedule. Feeling good about yourself walking in, flat on your back by minute four. We’ll meet again, you beautiful, brutal machine. Save me a spot.