We had a number of different pets when we were growing up. We had dogs and cats. One distinction in our town is that we had donkeys. Our father raised Spanish Burros as a hobby. Then there were the smaller and sometimes more exotic pets such as a turtle that mostly hid under the sofa. We had goldfish on numerous occasions with varying degrees of success. There was a parade of other creatures as well. I remember the hamsters. We never had one of the modular habitats that are now available. We had a cage, with wood chips on the bottom, a water bottle that attached to the side, a small dish for food pellets and an exercise wheel. The hamsters slept quite a bit and they burrowed into the wood chips to sleep, so there were times when observing them wasn’t much fun. The one entertaining thing that the hamsters did was to run in the wheel. I don’t know how much hamsters run in their natural environment, but I suspect quite a bit. They are small mammals and there are plenty of predators for such creatures. Hamsters can easily outrun a snake, though they probably are too slow for an eagle and only have occasional success getting away from a coyote. I haven’t observed any of this. I’m just speculating based on the hamsters we had in a cage.

I think about those hamsters from time to time. They didn’t have very rich or meaningful lives. The food and water were regular. And they had us to keep track of the housecleaning. But their social contacts were severely limited. They had each other. I don’t know what hamsters think or what would make one happy, but I suspect that living in a cage isn’t all that much fun.

All of this is a convoluted way of saying that I don’t understand one of the popular elements of contemporary culture. Just down the street from our house is an athletic club. There are plenty of them spread all around town. Some of them are in strip mall storefronts with glass windows that enable passers by to look at the people working out inside. Some of the athletic clubs have specialized equipment for weight lifting and strength training. Virtually all of them have rows and rows of machines for exercising.

I have no objection to exercising. It is an essential activity for those of us whose jobs involve a lot of sitting. Without regular and disciplined exercise we could not maintain our health.

I’m just baffled by all of those machines.

This morning I have a little bit of stiffness in my shoulders. I spent an hour yesterday rowing my boat on Sheridan Lake. The lake was busy and there were lots of other boaters having fun. The activities of the motorboats made for plenty of wakes and the water was choppy along the edges of the lake where I rowed. A couple of times my boat was riding a swell and I didn’t dip an oar deep enough. Expecting the resistance of the water makes for an interesting ride when all that the oar gets is air. Still, it was good to be outdoors and I enjoyed myself. I took a look at the scars from the recent fire and was pleased to find that most of the trees are going to survive. The mosaic left by the fire will be noticeable for a few years, but we’ll be noticing new growth by next spring.

Rowing is good exercise for someone like me. I use my arms and legs and bend at the waist, where my fat tends to congregate if I don’t stir it up from time to time. Even the process of launching the boat involves lifting and bending. And I like the view from the surface of the lake. The hills have a lot of reservoirs on which to paddle. I go to Sheridan Lake often because it is close, but there are enough choices that I would never get bored with the scenery.

Rowing I understand. A rowing machine, however, is a bit of a mystery to me. Why would someone sit indoors in front of a television set pulling on a contraption that is specifically designed to go nowhere and provide resistance without motion? The effort is the same as rowing a boat, but there is no satisfaction of taking a trip around the lake. I like the feel of varnished spruce oars in my hands. I like the grace of watching the wake of my boat as it slices through the water. I like the eagles circling overhead and the fish jumping in the lake. I like watching the campers on the shore. I like the smell of the air. Most of all, I like getting some place when I row.

I’m that way with a bicycle, too. I enjoy riding my bike on the greenbelt in Rapid City. I can go from one end of town to the other and back in a couple of hours. If I start down by the fairgrounds it is a gentle climb to Cleghorn Canyon beyond the fish hatchery. Then I turn around and go downhill all the way to the fairgrounds. Along the way I get a good view of rapid creek and the critters that like to hang out near it. I have the satisfaction of the changing scenery that comes with motion. I’ve got an odometer on my bicycle and I can see the miles add up. Five miles go by pretty quickly on a bicycle.

I sort of feel sorry for those people who sit on the bicycles in the health clubs. I have looked in while walking by the club in Baken Park. The people are sweating and working hard. But they are getting nowhere. It reminds me of the hamsters in their wheel. I wonder if they know the freedom of getting on a bicycle and going wherever you want to go. They don’t even get the rush of the wind in their ears. I don’t think they even get to choose which channel is blasting them from the television sets.

The same can be said for treadmills. Walking in the same place doesn’t seem like much fun compared with hiking through the woods. They have stair machines for those who don’t like to get up or down for their effort. We have regular stairs to go from our basement to our main floor and another set to go upstairs.

It is unlikely that I will ever again own a hamster. I think those creatures belong outside in their natural environment. And, for now, I have no intention of joining a health club. I think that I also belong outside.

Copyright © 2012 by Ted Huffman. I wrote this. If you want to copy it, please ask for permission. There is a contact me button at the bottom of this page. If you want to share my blog a friend, please direct your friend to my web site.