OK, so I promised that I would report on last night’s workout — specifically focusing on my 10 goals for the evening. Overall, my goal-oriented approach took time away from stuff I would normally do (I so missed brutalizing myself on that lat pull-down machine….), but it also cajoled me into other arguably constructive — and slightly irritating — activities.

Anyway, as promised, here’s my report:

1. Avoid sudden — or even gradual — cardiac arrest.
So far, so good.

2. Wipe the sweat off my face without knocking the glasses off my nose.
Mission accomplished, though I nearly tumbled off the elliptical thingy in the process.

3. “Run” for awhile on that elliptical thingy without holding onto the handles (or falling off). See if I can get my heart rate into the mid-120s. Or not.
See #2. I did manage to spend a few minutes on a couple of occasions “running” with my hands free, but it’s quite disorienting. (The “poles” you’re supposed to be holding could actually present a bonking hazard if you were to lean forward too far and just a bit to the right or left — does that sound improbable? Not to me.) Average heart rate for the 30-minute session: 111; top heart rate: 126.

4. Take time to stretch after “running” on that elliptical thingy. Try not to look like a dork, but also don’t pretend that I know anything about stretching.
Mixed results here. I found one of the little rubber stretching mats unoccupied and did my favorite “sit up with the soles of your feet together to loosen your hammies or something” stretch for awhile, before folding one leg to my side and extending the other (repeated with other leg). To my credit, I did not try to touch my toes, but I was exerting way too much energy, given that I could barely reach past my knee. On the debit side, I was seated 3 feet from a floor-to-ceiling mirror, which resoundingly confirmed my dork status.

5. Work my abs for once. Jeeze.
My fitness guru, SW, tells me that I need to work my lower back in order to strengthen my abs, so I climbed onto this back-extender machine to see what would happen. I did three series of 10 reps with 50 pounds and I was delighted to notice that my abs felt great! My lower back, on the other hand, seemed to be tightening up.

6. Resist the temptation to roll up my sleeves to expose my rippling biceps while I’m doing curls (ha ha ha ha ha. . . .).
They really shouldn’t have mirrors in the gym.

7. Abs. Really. I mean it.
Yeah, yeah, yeah. . . . I did three series of 15 reps each on the ab-cruncher machine and noticed that, toward the end, my lower back was barking at me.

8. Fail. As in lifting to failure — at least some of the time. OK, twice. . . . Once? No, do it twice. . . . Because I said so. . . . Shut up.
I shall not fail! Failure is not an option! Failure is for failures! And I barely eluded failure on my third series of 10 reps with 100 lbs. on the push-the-bar-straight-up-from-a-sitting-position machine. The last three of those reps were excruciating, so I kind of short-armed them. Success!

9. Work those #@$%&*#@$ abs, you sniveling maggot!
I did three series of 10 reps on the swiveling-chair machine with, I think, 45 lbs. This is the one where you put your arms in these arm-holders and swivel first to your right (30 times) and then to your left (30 times). That’s 60 times, OK?

10. Maintain a positive frame of mind.
Not a problem.

So, there you are — 10 goals pretty much achieved, depending upon your particular point of view (succeeding at failure, for instance, is not as successful as failing to fail, as I did in #8). And, while this may prove that even a goal-less fitness regimen needs some goals in order to avoid certain failure, failing to set goals could, in fact, lead to success, in that nothing succeeds like a successful failure.
I hope we’re all clear on this now.

Are fuzzy goals worth protecting?

Everybody in the fitness biz talks about hitting plateaus in your workout regimen, times when you don’t seem to be progressing toward your goals and, thus, need to change your routine. I manage to avoid plateaus not by changing my routine, but by refusing to set any goals.

Now, I know this can be a problem — at least I’ve read as much. I mean, why go to all the trouble of working out at the gym if you don’t want to tighten up your butt or break the three-hour barrier in your next marathon — or maybe run a three-hour marathon with a really tight butt.

Anyway, it occurred to me the other day that I am bereft of fitness goals. My butt is just my butt, and I’m really never going to run a marathon. Like any good Minnesotan, all I really want out of this new fitness regimen is the satisfaction of a job well done. Or something like that.

I’m not being evasive here — I like the way I feel after a good workout, and there’s evidence that I’ve dropped a few pounds and built some muscle over the past 16 months, but all I’ve really needed to get me to the gym most days is the knowledge that this stuff is keeping me healthy. For a variety of reasons — not the least of which is my desire to enjoy this world for awhile longer than my father did (he suffered a heart attack at 51 and died of cancer nine years later) — I don’t need a lot more prodding than that.

Besides, any goal I’d set for myself would be pretty arbitrary, wouldn’t it? (Joe Hart discusses arbitrariness and goal-ness here.) I mean, rather than challenging myself to hobble a mile on the treadmill twice a week — which would greatly irritate me (not to mention grind up the faltering meniscus in my left knee) — I could set as a goal pedaling in a leisurely manner three times a week on a stationary bike — an activity recently made more compelling by the little TVs that have been installed between the handgrips.
No pain, no gain, you say? I say: a tiny bit of discomfort, a small and perhaps faintly measurable reward. Or, put another way: no pain doesn’t hurt a bit.

But, if I must set goals, I must set goals. So here are 10 things I’m going to try to accomplish at tonight’s sweat-a-thon:

1. Avoid sudden — or even gradual — cardiac arrest.

2. Wipe the sweat off my face without knocking the glasses off my nose.

3. “Run” for awhile on that elliptical thingy without holding onto the handles (or falling off). See if I can get my heart rate into the mid-120s. Or not.

4. Take time to stretch after “running” on that elliptical thingy. Try not to look like a dork, but also don’t pretend that I know anything about stretching.

5. Work my abs for once. Jeeze.
6. Resist the temptation to roll up my sleeves to expose my rippling biceps while I’m doing curls (ha ha ha ha ha. . . .).

7. Abs. Really. I mean it.

8. Fail. As in lifting to failure — at least some of the time. OK, twice. . . . Once? No, do it twice. . . . Because I said so. . . . Shut up.

9. Work those #@$%&*#@$ abs, you sniveling maggot!
10. Maintain a positive frame of mind.

Unless I’m unable to achieve goal #1, I will report back tomorrow.