There! I have accomplished sweating in the gym. After over a year of regular exercise, and seven months regular attendance at the gym, I had reached the point where I was reading magazines on the aerobics machines, and looking up with gentle surprise when the time was up. No sore muscles, no sweat. It sort of crept up on me. I realized it when I was setting my goals for the year.
I tried going more frequently and for a longer time (Frequency, Intensity, Time), but still wasn’t getting that masochistic — or, rather, healthy pleasure of slight suffering. Then I walked to work a few times. Same length of time, but I felt as though I were getting a little exercise. Still not much in the way of sweat and no sore muscles, but at least a slight sense of effort. I turned around to look at my path and noticed that it was straight uphill.
So I have added incline, added weight, added reps. I am trying to pay attention and work harder. And I think I am succeeding at last. Today, I had to breathe seriously at the wieght machines, and I was staring at the stair climber time readout waiting for it to be over when my session ended, and felt a sense of accomplishment at not having quit. Maybe I will even have sore muscles tomorrow.
This is still a long way from my fit youth. I could not possibly make it through a ballet class. Everyone else in the gym increases the weight on the machines when they follow me (the New Year’s Resolution People are gone.) I still look like someone’s mom. But there is a lot of satisfaction in a good workout.