We had our first joint workout, the Kisa and us – me, myself and moi. Kisa, visiting New Guinea and me…thrashing away on the elliptical from hell. I say thrashing only because I’m still not completely comfortable with the mechanics of the machine. Okay, I admit it. It’s only my second go at it, but I feel downright silly ellipticalling (my word) away. Everything about it is unnatural to me. Maybe Kisa sensed this. “Put your feet closer to the front and you will mimic stair stepping” came his all-knowing advice. Oh great, something from my days in the gym with the Wanker. Not that I need reminders of those days. No StairMaster stepping for me, thank you. “Put your feet further away and you’ll glide more like running” came Kisa’s next advice. Glide as g-l-i-d-e? Okay. I’ll take it. I took the advice and ran with it. Sorta. Kinda. Maybe. Not. It was nothing like running. Even though I got a decent work out, sweat and red face and all I still envied Kisa. Kisa over there with New Guinea having a blast.
In all fairness, aside from my raging jealousy the workout was a success in almost every other way. Kisa watched his sports shows – you know the ones where they talk, talk, talk about the same things over and over (thankfully the Tebow thing is winding down), while I plugged into the iPod and rocked out to the usual suspects. Cream. Stevie Wonder. Maroon 5. Joplin, Pearl Jam. Even a little Duran Duran. As my jealousy kept spying on Kisa I noticed that one of New Guinea’s cup holders is deep enough to hold the remote. Good to know.
The workout would have been a complete success if we had officially moved everything to its rightful place. As it is we haven’t created enough space for two workout mats, two stability balls, yoga mats, that sort of thing. There isn’t room for two people to properly stretch after working out…yet. So the space is still awkward to me. But, it will get there and at least Kisa and I are getting along.