I've tried on my own to keep up a level of exercise compatible with my age, but usually get bored. Walking is the only thing I've ever been able to stick to and now the rainy season has begun, which gives me a ready-made excuse not to venture outside.
It doesn't rain on the gym treadmill, though, and so far, I haven't even found myself looking for a reason not to go.
Exercising is so much easier than in the old days. Now there are computer screens on every treadmill, elliptical and bicycle. You can watch The Price Is Right on television, log into YouTube, check your Facebook page or access your Netflix account. I keep my attention off the fact I'm working out by watching reruns of my favourite show Midsomer Murders.(Can't wait till next season begins but I hear Charlie is leaving!) I can even go into the studio room and push a button to lower a screen so that I can cycle the Dolomites, a Caribbean Island, or Lake District in England.
I've discovered one down side to the technology of the modern gym. Maybe our brains are too engaged. It works fine to take our minds off the fact that we are actually exercising, but it also takes away the perfect opportunity to plot—to work out the wrinkles in a cozy mystery or review dialogue from your romance in your head as you stroll along on your daily walk.
But then when I get home, all righteous after my workout, I feel justified in sinking into my recliner for a well-earned snooze. There—plotting location supreme. Now to manage somehow to keep awake until I figure out why Bella didn't want to have bacon for breakfast.