"With me" means we would ride in the same car. They do not hang out with me at the gym.
Eventually one of my boys explained to me that, just in case our country every collapses and anarchy reigns, he wanted me to be fit enough to run from the bad guys and not get caught. I wanted to know who the bad guys were and why we were running from them ... and where we were running to, come to think of it. I never did get satisfactory answers, but hey I'm a good sport and I certainly don't want to be the one to slow the family down as we flee a post-apocalyptic world, so I joined a gym.
Yeah, I'm pretty sure that's me. I've been going faithfully, but I can't really say I'm enjoying it yet. Not only is getting fit hard work (unless you're ... you know ... fit), the gym is definitely not my comfort zone.
I'm not a very coordinated person. In fact, I am quite clumsy. Some of the machines at the gym seem so complicated that just getting in them properly is enough of a workout for me. And I can't even count the number of times I've caught my toe--or the edge of my skirt--on something and nearly fell flat on my face.
Lucky for me I go to a gym that is part of a judgment free zone. They advertise that everyone feels comfortable there and no one is judged.
In spite of the gym's efforts, sometimes I'm uncomfortable. For one thing, there's a group of "old guys" (Stephanie's term) who hang out at the gym. I think they all must be hard of hearing because whenever they talk to each other they yell loudly enough so that everyone in the gym hears them. Their workout consists of doing a couple of reps on a machine and then standing there and talking to each other for twenty minutes before they move on to the next machine. I think I've figured out why they can still have a beer gut even though they're at the gym for over two hours a day.
Not that I'm judging.
Some of the women are no better. Listen to me, ladies. Leggings are not the same as pants. Why do people not get that? They are not attractive, no matter how skinny you may be. And can I just say, a lot of the people at the gym are not skinny. I'm included in that group, but at least I'm not showing every roll and lump in clearly defined detail.
But I guess I'm judging.
That's okay, though, because I think people are judging me too. Last week a man came up to me and commented on my speed on the stationary bike. Just to be clear, I wasn't on the bike at the time. He had apparently noticed my readout when he was on the bike next to me the day before. I think it's very personal to look at someone else's readout. And that felt just a little bit stalker-ish. The man said he's usually on the bike next to me and he thought I was doing great.
Ahem! If that wasn't enough, a few days later a woman held the door open for me as I was leaving, and she complimented me on my speed on the stationary bike. She also said she's usually on the bike next to me when I'm riding.
So if I understand this correctly, I've been excelling at speed on a stationary bike, while never noticing that there was both a man and a woman on the other bike that is right next to me. You'd think I'd notice something as strange as two people on one stationary bike. But then, since we don't judge at this gym, maybe it's okay?
I'm thinking of switching to the treadmill.
I don't really have a problem with the gym's judgment free zone, but I do protest the gym's enabling tendencies. They serve free pizza on the first Monday of the month and free bagels on the first Tuesday of the month. Isn't that kind of like serving alcohol at an AA meeting?!?!?!?
So how's your quest for fitness going? Are you ready for the post-apocalyptic world?
I'm definetly not ready... I'll be the one screaming "RUN, save yourselves!"
ReplyDeleteYou're so selfless, Jennie! Lol
DeleteMy favorite thing is when people try to talk to me at the gym. Maybe I'm just antisocial, but when I'm huffing and puffing on the treadmill, I'd rather not take that moment to chit chat about my life... I have enough trouble breathing much less talking.
ReplyDeleteThankfully I have toddlers that keep me on my toes. I don't know that physically fit is the correct term for me. However, if zombies were chasing me I'm sure I would find my inner "flash".
ReplyDelete