Day 357: Back to the Gym

I did get to the gym today, where I was jockeying for pole position with an overweight, pushy woman from the parking lot to the sign up board. She looked to be out of the running when she forgot her pass, but I ultimately was a two-time loser when I stopped to rent a towel (bleachy smelling things for a dollar. Note: not available on the Sabbath) and she pulled ahead. Aside from getting to the signup board first, she took the last signup spot for the elliptical machine. Due to a brain malfunction on my part, I signed up for the wrong machine. Without a machine, I spent the first 15 minutes on the treadmill. Then, I thought it was my turn, but sadly turned away by a Russian man who had to point out the folly of my ways. I did another half hour on the treadmill. I can't tell you how many miles I went because of my lack experience, I continued to pull of the emergency button, stopping the treadmill and resetting all the numbers. This happened three times. On the fourth time, just minutes before my time on the elliptical was called for, I just gave up and waited. I only had the appetite for 1 mile on the elliptical and then I did a half mile on the track. It was a disjointed triathlon, but it was a fitting return.

Breakfast
Pastrami and Eggs
2 oz. 50% Jalapeno Cheddar
Tea

Snack
2 oz. 50% Jalapeno Cheddar
Few pieces of honeydew melon

Lunch
Corned Beef and Turkey
Pickles, Sour Tomatoes and Peppers
Cole Slaw
Coke Zero

Dinner
Caesar Salad (undressed)
6 oz. Breast of Chicken
Spinach, Tomatoes, Onions and Feta
Chicken and Arugala

Interlude:
1 Small Square Tanzania Dark Chocolate

Though there wasn't a lot of eating today, but what there was felt rich and heavy. Dinner was at a place called Macaroni Grille, which you would think from the crowds was the last civilized operation that was offering dinner in Massachusetts. It was basically another version of Bertucci's, but the food wasn't as reliable, and there was no dough to play with. The dark chocolate was better on day two. Aileen is promising a Burdick's bar that will knock my socks off.