Gym Locker Grifter

Every Tuesday, I decide I AM going to the 6pm spin class tonight! I AM! Tuesday nights fits my schedule. Sure it’s the teacher whose music I don’t like the best and he does lots of hills, but I’d prefer hills to tons of sprints. I hate sprints, I’m not a sprinter. Anyway, my intentions are always good on Tuesday night, but the stars of my commute must align for me to get to the gym in time (let’s not forget I have to park, not always a guaranteed spot with the post new year’s resolutioners still crowding the gym, get to the locker room, change, and get up to the spin room well in advance of 6pm or there won’t be any bikes left).

But last night…. the angels sang and all that happened. I even had time to go to the bathroom. As I was walking out of the locker room, I thought: did I put the lock on my locker? I return quickly to check and… there is a silver lock on my locker. Oh no.

Background on my insanity: a couple of years ago, I lost my gym lock. I searched high and low and could find it anywhere. I bought a new gym lock in hot pink. I can be seen from space. Also, easy to find when scanning the lockers because you can remember which one you put your stuff in. The combination to the hot pink lock is burned into my memory by use of a movie title with two of the combination numbers in it. The pink lock and I have happily been locking things up together all this time. About a year ago, I found in the way back of a closet my old gym bag and way down deep, in some unknown pocket was my old silver gym lock. So that is where you were all this time! I happily put it into my new gym bag as a backup, in case hot pink gym lock and I ever suffer a separation. I kept the combination on a note on my phone, just in case.

So here I was looking at my locker, locked with the silver lock and me with the following in my hands: water bottle and spin shoes. What do I not have, my phone. What is the combo? I have no idea. I haven’t used this lock in close to three years. What possessed me to grab this one in stead of my sweet girl, hot pink lock? I try a few combos. Nothing. I think it’s something like.. X Y Z. It’s not. Eventually, I know I am close because the lock feels close to opening. I look around at others in the locker room. Do they think I’m trying to break in to this locker? Am I a locker thief? No one is paying any attention to me. I continue on for a few minutes. Eventually, I must admit… I don’t know the combination. What I think it is isn’t it. Do I go to spin and return to deal with this all sweaty (because I sweat in spin, yo. Oh do I sweat in spin)? Will I be worried the entire time about this? My keys! My wallet! My PHONE.

I don’t think I can deal. So I approach the front desk. Surely something like this has happened before. It must be common place because they say they will send a woman to the locker room to help. This older woman appears with a tool which I don’t know the name of, but are, in effect, giant scissors. I guess we’re just going to cut the lock off. Ok. But do you just cut the lock off any locker that anyone happens to tell you is theirs?  I could be a crazy gym locker thief! Now, I’m not and I’ve been going to this gym forever, so they know me, but who knows, perhaps I’ve become a grifter. A gym locker grifter. Imagine returning to your gym locker and the lock has been cut off and all your stuff gone? The woman turns to me and says ‘you have to be very strong to cut the lock, I’m not sure if I can do it. Maybe you can’. Ok, I’m game. The gym locker grifter is going to cut her own lock. It’s is quite difficult, but I did do it. Is there any check that this is actually my stuff? No. She actually apologized to me that the lock was ruined. No need for apologies, this 100% my fault.

But now I know the combo to that lock: 12-36-24. So easy, all multiples of 12.

Starting a New Exercise Routine?

Ever year the gym is crowded with new year’s resolution-ers, people who want to change and be healthy who use the start of the new year as their kick start. Here is my pro tip:

Find the exercise that you like, that works for you that makes you want to go. 

You don’t have to do what your friends do or what you see on tv or what your favorite celebrity’s routine is. Just get moving and if you try something and don’t like it, don’t do it. You will find what works for you. Your body wants to move. It wants to be healthy. If you have signed up for a gym with all the classes and equipment, try them all until you find something. Don’t be afraid of looking dumb in a class because you’re new. Everyone was new once and they remember what that was like. Also no one is paying attention to what you do. Everyone is looking at themselves in the mirror, not you. If some gym rat does cop an attitude, fuck them, they are an asshole. Assholes are everywhere, what are you going to do? Why should you not become healthier because of some asshole? So get out there and Zumba, spin, walk, run, use the elliptical, take Step, lift weights, bike, take yoga, play basketball, play soccer, swim, dance, kick-box or whatever makes you happy. Stick with it. You will not regret it.

(obviously I’m not a doctor, so if there are any medical issues or concerns, check with your doctor first!)

 

Three Quarters 30 – Day 3: Sugar Hangover

Sugar hangover is what I think this is, anyway. Because even though I no alcohol has been consumed, I woke up feeling dehydrated, gross, my mouth dry; my tongue desperately trying to clear this bad taste out by making the sound mleah, mleah, mleah. I should drink a big glass of water, but I have a big, steaming, cup of coffee in my hands because I’m so tired (three day work weeks are a bitch!). What is this? I thought I was supposed to sleep so much better without my glass of wine with dinner. This sucks. I don’t want to do it anymore. Is this what Seth Godin calls the The Dip? Two days is my dip?

I read once that the sugar hangover lasts about a week. It’s your body saying: give me my drugs, fool! I need the sugar! I want the sugar! A little sugar won’t hurt anything!  Let’s go eat a bagel (which when digested turns into sugar) and a latte! NO.  I can push through this. I can! Mostly because I went to the gym last night and just like all the New Years resolutioners who have just joined the gym, I could feel my extra holiday induced jiggle. So I still feel gross, but now gross, dehydrated and tired. I’m off to get some water and to fight another day.

My New Years Resolutions

Because they say if you write them down and share them, it’s more likely to happen.  Let’s see, shall we?   Not really in order because then I’d have to think about prioritizing and coming up with a prioritization system could blow half the year.  The first thing I did was change this whole site to look better just so I could start fresh for this post.  You see how I allow myself to get distracted??

  • Lose weight (required, I think)
  • Work out more (also required)
  • Read more!   (should be required, but somehow isn’t)
  • Keep dinning room table clear.  It’s not a storage location!
  • Write on this blog 2-3 times a week
  • Figure out life stuff
  • Spend more time on the things I want to do(less tv and internet, more books!) 
  • More Photography projects
  • Have more patience with inept co-worker, or perhaps should be:  find job without completely inept co-workers
  • Come up with metrics for the above so I know what to actually shoot for. 
  • Stop procrastinating with dumb stuff(again:  less tv and internet, more books!)

It’s a start! 

I feel good, na na naan a naan a naaa…

Because I made the choice to return to the more difficult class at the gym and then stayed after to do the free weight class. Sounds so minor, but it was a positive choice for me, something I haven’t been doing too much of recently. I’d let a life set back get me down. But all it is is a setback, not a catastrophe. Why did I let it get me down? Why did I let it lead me to make poor choices, including not going to the gym as much as I should? Why make it all worse? Until one day.. gasp.. my pants are too tight. So sorry, that’s crap. And it was all on me. I can blame others for causing the setback, but I can only blame myself for my reaction to it. For allowing myself to get to this place. It felt so good to work out a little harder than before, to feel my body working as it should. It feels good to make the right choices, the choice to do something productive with my time, something healthy something for me.
I want to change things. I want my life to be better. One decision at a time. Bring on the cliché’s: every journey starts with one step, put one foot in front of the other and soon you’ll be walking across the floor.

There is something transcendent in doing something you enjoy, even if it’s minor, even if it only matters to you. That moment affects the other areas of your life. It makes you more of who you are. So here is to making good choices, here is to getting back on track, here is to choosing to make yourself better and then doing it. Because you can’t be there for others or help others if you can’t do it for yourself first.

And yeah, going back to the hard class at the gym is a small thing, but it’s my first step.

Put one foot in front of the other and soon you’ll be walking out the door:
life lessons from Rankin-Bass claymation:

Mentally Fit or Fat

So in the realm of first world problems…Tonight is one of my best friend’s birthdays and we’re all off to a nice dinner. I know I haven’t been eating that well recently, the holidays you know? Then there is extra work stress, which has caused me to have perhaps an extra glass of wine at night. Not too bad, though right? I know things aren’t great in terms of being in shape, so I decide to wear the pants which have historically be loose on me. I pull them on slowly and (the horror), I can barely zip them up. I ponder this. I want to cry. I feel fat and ugly and tired. But mostly I think: how did I get here? How have I let this silly life bullshit impact me to this point? Why haven’t I worked out more? Why is Girl Scout cookies only come once a year an excuse to eat more than I should? I just want to stay home and put on pajamas.

But it is my friend’s birthday. I will not miss it because I feel bad about myself and my choices. I could put on a stretchy skirt and go, but I decide to go in the uncomfortable, formerly loose pants. Let them remind me that I should eat something healty, that I should drink less. My new choices start now. NOW.

Men’s Boot Camp

For once I arrived early for my kickboxing class and what did I see in the studio: men’s boot camp. MEN’S Boot Camp. At first I thought: why do men need their own boot camp? You can’t keep women out of boot camp if they want to go. Discrimination! I can do anything men can do, and in many cases more…And then I glanced at the class schedule, conveniently posted by the door, classes such as yoga, interval training, step, pilates, butts and guts… zumba (and let’s be honest, zumba is suburban white women trying to dance in a sexy way). 99% of these classes will be attended by no men, and if there is a man in the class, it’s a man, singular. Why are men so afraid of classes choreographed to music? Why do women love them so much? The truth is men should nut up, be a real man, and show up to these classes. But since they don’t. Perhaps that men fear anything considered girly isn’t the gym’s problem to solve. But allowing people of both sexes to be healthy and challenge themselves is. This is after all, a gym that opens for six hours on Thanksgiving morning to serve it’s mission. So go on, have your Men’s Boot Camp, fill it to the max as this class was.
But I will revel in the fact that the teacher of Men’s Boot Camp is a fiesty, little, woman.