The gym.

It’s been months since I’ve been there.  Once I put my membership on hold back in May to prepare for my Europe adventure, I’ve been making every excuse possible to avoid reinstating it again.  My health… my wallet… my busy schedule… All three of them have been rebelling against my extreme need to exercise regularly but now I’m finally getting a grip on all three.  My health is no longer forcing me to stay in bed, losing all the muscle strength I worked so hard to gain earlier this year.   My wallet still isn’t very full but next week I’ll have a new refreshment of grant money so that can help with my lack of funding… and my busy schedule?  Well, that hasn’t changed but I’ll make the time simply for the reason that I NEED TO.

I’m a member at a very popular gym in my hometown and, unfortunately, it has a few qualities about it that I wish I thought it over more when I joined.   The alluring temptation of the membership fee being waived and a $30 a month with no contract easily won my cheap brain over as I was fully aware  that the other gyms in my area cost much more.  ($200 membership fees with $50 a month was the last gym I attended)

Of course I’m not the only one who likes a bargain so probably 1/3rd of my town is a member there too which makes it difficult to get the machines you desire.  There only seems to be about five hours in the time span of the gym being open that it’s not insanely packed.  Sure, the thick and invisible fog of sweat and hot circulated air that engulfs your body as soon as you walk in may be enough to make you want to immediately walk back out, but maybe it has an opposite reaction for you!   Maybe it’s motivation enough for you to get your work-out OVER and done with so you can contribute your essence to the gym’s atmosphere and walk back out to that wonderful reward of fresh air that doesn’t have humidity made out of sweat to it.

I do enjoy watching the people who take the time to wipe down  the machines afterwards though.  The OCD in me watches which areas they spray, which areas they wipe down, and which areas they neglect completely even though their sweaty palms were clutching to those side handle bars for most of the work-out.  It’s fun to play a little game with myself as I swish along on the elliptical on guessing which sweaty people will actually clean their machines after.  If you ever need some sort of entertainment in a gym that offers sanitizing spray for people to wipe down the machines – I highly recommend making guesses on who you think does and doesn’t!  It can be quite surprising to see who does it but it’s always disappointing when you quickly realize the buffet of germs that are on the machines since so few people take the time to clean them off.

Regardless of the cleanliness of the machines or how heavy that air inside the building is, it’s time for me to go back.  I’m thinking about sacrificing my membership and coughing up the $200 and extra $20 a month to go for the other gym I mentioned in town. I loved that gym, it was hardly ever busy and all the classes had enough space in  them that you didn’t have to worry about having anyone’s body parts close to your face.

Do you go to a gym?  How often do you go?  What qualities do you look for when choosing a gym? Do you have any tips to make the time pass by with ease?

Enjoy your weekend!

AprilSignatur

 

Naked Nancy

Tonight was a night like any other; came home from work, made dinner, lazed around, contemplated going to the gym, lazed around, contemplated going to the gym, lazed around, finally went to gym. I completed my work out and headed to the locker room to change, being conscientous of not flashing my bare ass at the woman changing next to me.

I’ve always been fairly modest – I’m certainly no prude, but I’m not the type of chick that wanders around bra-less in tight shirts. (I also don’t have the figure for that, but you know, semantics) So, whenever I’m in a situation where I need to change in front of someone, even a long time friend, I’m like “EEK! DON”T LOOK AT MY NEKKIDS!!!”

I have a recent not-so-fond memory of having my wedding gown altered in which the old German seamstress said “Removen za bra, please.”. I remember thinking, why do my tatas gotta be showin’ for you to properly tailor this dress?? So, even in front of wrinkly grandmas, I’m not especially keen on showing off my bazookas, never less my lady parts.

So can you imagine my surprise when I got out of the spa, and walked back into the locker room to be greeted by a woman standing full-on nude blow drying her hair next to my locker? There’s certain things that you would understandably do naked : You know, bathe, shower, have a massage, engage in adult activities, maybe streak down a street in a haze of intoxication while in college. But, there are some things you shouldn’t do naked: like, blow dry your hair in a public locker room. I get the fact that it’s warm, and toasty, and you like to show off your newly-toned gluteus maximus, and maybe do it at home; but for the love of god, while you’re fixing your hair, don’t give unsuspecting locker room goers a full-frontal view of your vajayjay. I mean… at least put on panties.

As soon as I saw naked lady, I averted my eyes and became interested in changing very, very quickly. But no – naked lady wanted to talk. So she did, half-shouting over the roar of the hair dryer – “How was your workout?” Now see – I don’t know naked lady. I’ve never seen her in my life. So the fact that suddenly she’s trying to have a conversation with me and she’s NAKED?! is kind of blowing my mind. I look up quickly, say “fine, thanks” and change out of my wet swimsuit as fast as I can (being careful not to drop my towel and show MY naked ass, thank u very much) and book it out of there.

Am I being a gym-time prude, or is naked hair drying a little out there? What would be your course of action if Naked Nancy tried to make friends with you while she was blow-drying her hair? As I was leaving,  I heard a phone ring. Naked Nancy turned off the hair dryer, and answered the phone. She paused, sitting down on the bench, inspecting her nails. I suspect it was a long conversation, and that many more people were treated to a late-night show from Naked Nancy – but I somehow think she had the wrong audience.