My elliptical trainer is temporarily out of commission. The last few times I used it, I couldn’t increase the resistance enough to get a really good workout. I sent an email to the manufacturer and found out that I have to partially disassemble it in order to find out what’s wrong. That chore requires the use of a bicycle crank puller. I don’t have one, so must either buy or borrow one. My son Pat has one, and would gladly let me use it. He would have brought it along this weekend when he visited us, but I failed to ask him to bring it.
He brought something else along, though: his resistance trainer. I hooked it up to my bike and spent a half hour on it this evening. I wore a sweatshirt and sweatpants. Within 15 minutes I was sweating. When I stopped after a half hour, my clothing was drenched. My legs burned. My heart rate was way up there.
I usually read while using my elliptical trainer. On the bike, I had no way to attach reading material to the handle bars so I had no choice for entertainment but to watch the Duke – Baylor game. It did not end the way I had hoped. But at least I was able to work out my frustrations on the bike. I had the resistance level cranked way up. That helped, but not entirely. The game ended with me screaming at the Baylor guys who pissed the game away in the last few minutes.
This week I’ll ride my bike outside, where it belongs. And where I belong.