gym thoughts: some things can't be replicated

Today I went for a bike ride after work.  The rain had just stopped and the pavement was still smelling like fresh moisture.  The clouds in the sky were turning blue, purple, and red while the sun was setting over the tree line.  I followed the pavement to my favorite trail and marveled at the tall prairie grass that was beginning to turn brown as autumn approaches.  I saw squirrels, rabbits, and birds.  Geese were walking around the marshland, searching for sustenance.  Gravel was crunching beneath my bicycle tires as I listened to the sound of crickets in the woods around me.  I had to pause to thank God for His beautiful creation and allowing me to be a part of this wonderful sensory experience tonight.

I couldn't help but contrast this rich moment with my experiences exercising at the gym.  Just last night I was on a mechanical stationary device whose sole purpose was to help me increase my heart rate by moving my legs up and down in a repetitive motion for 20 minutes.  All of this takes place in a sterile environment while watching TV and listening to Top 40.  Three times a week I walk into an indoor exercise room where I "clock in" and do my duty to help ensure that I don't die and early death due to cardiac arrest and high cholesterol.  I had a moment where I realized that not only do I subject myself to doing repetitive motions on a man-made device in order to participate in physical activity, but that I also think that it's NORMAL to do so.  Something is just missing.

Perhaps it's the fact that I am not actually going anywhere while I'm moving.  I am not feeling the wind as I run, or my feet hitting the pavement.  I don't see the sunset over the horizon, or the suicidal chipmunk that runs in the middle of the path.

Or perhaps its because I'm a slave to a machine all day, every day.  I sit in front of a machine at work.  I check a machine throughout the day to see if someone has tried to contact me.  I drive a machine to and from home.  I am so inundated with machines, that at times, you start to wonder if you ARE one.

Or perhaps my discontent with the gym comes from the lack of dynamic opportunities.  I don't walk away having felt like I experienced much of anything (besides other people's body odor).  I don't feel like I participated in something "bigger" than myself.  Sure, I feel healthier.  I feel stronger, and those things cannot be discounted, but there's something to be said about being in creation and realizing how truly small we really are.

So, will I go to the gym tomorrow?  Probably.  But will I long for something different?  Definitely.  In the meantime, I will keep attempting to lower my cholesterol.