I always know, without looking, when I'm seven minutes in. At the seven-minute mark, I usually break out into a sweat, the legs feel like lead, and I think I'm going to die.
Yes, folks -- I met with Jim. I hate Jim. I hate the fact that my butt already hurts from half of it hanging over the edges of the seat, and the other half contracting vigourously to hold on for dear life.
I could only do ten minutes, but that's ten minutes I didn't do yesterday, or last week, or last six months. So that's something.
Time: 10:28
Distance: 5.82 km
Average Heartrate: 130 bpm (moderate to vigourous rate of exercise)
Calories Burned: 234 according to software, which takes into account my weight.
I'll try for eleven minutes tomorrow.
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