Tuesday I’ve been to my old fitness club. I finally had one day I could make it. The bus took me across the green sports park. Thousands of miles of running tracks. A place with history where the grass never seems to die and dog shit is rare.

The train station looks tormented by big construction works. Sand and messy materials wait in need for another pair of iron hands. I get off the bus with young people.

Entrance, stairs – they are still the same. At the top big glass doors give a sneak preview of aluminum tiled floor with robust fitness equipment. The coziness is captured in dark grey and halogen spotlights.

My intake is thorough with a lot of questions and my hunger is tempered. It’s too early to use dumbbells. So I start with 15 minutes biking at an old lady’s speed. Halfway and already tired arms. I change my position and let my arms rest.

With the feeling of hard work I go to my next challenge. The cross trainer for a 15 minute walk. Speed 2,5km/hrs. Not much but heavy. My but is glowing in the dark.

Anyway I did it. My reward was sweet. A ten minute sauna. Even though I knew I had given a top performance and the risk of a setback. But than I’m protected and not allowed more than one fitness day a week.

And you know what; the fitmess stress of the night assured me that right decision. My body doesn’t know who it is. Cells have lost their memory of good all times high.
But I tasted a little old me; a little spirit in the lamp. So I’ll keep rubbing.

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