The "Y" to be exact.
It's been a number of years (read: 15) since I last set foot in an organized workout emporium of any sort (unless we're counting drunken roller skating or competitive eating, which I totally do), and the last time it was only to take water aerobics with 65 year-old women named Ethyl and Bernadette at the Duluth "Y". Yes, I was 24 years old. Yes, I thought water aerobics was "hard exercise". Yes, I was an idiot. But hey- I was still young enough that I didn't have to worry about what I looked like in a swimsuit, and my metabolism was such that "working out" was totally unnecessary anyways. I could eat a cheeseburger, fries and a shake 4 times a day and still lose weight. Now? Now I just see a picture of a french fry and my ass fat starts expanding at a rate of three inches per hour.
So far, this whole working out thing is going fairly well- I haven't broken any bones, and I've only almost fell off of the treadmill
...where was I? Oh yeah- the ipod/treadmill thingy.
So, I'm on the treadmill, going along at a pretty good clip, and I decide to fumble on the ipod for something more inspiring, musically. Suddenly, I kind of started listing to the right, and I started to lose my footing. Forgetting completely about that pesky "pause" button, I began flailing about oh-so-gracefully, looking for something to grab so I wouldn't go flying off the treadmill, cartoon-style. In my "challenged" state, I got the cord for my ear buds caught on my arm, and I managed to disconnect them, sending the actual ipod to the floor (which in this case was the treadmill itself), which in turn propelled it into the wall directly behind me, leaving a mark. I managed to finally find the pause button, only to look up- sweating profusely and totally red-faced- to see three different people looking at me like I
I also kind of forgot about the locker room at the "Y", but I was quickly reminded of how charming it can be within the first 3 minutes on my very first day. I went in to grab a locker, and there the reminder was: right in front of the door, standing under one of those hot air hand dryers was a 65+ year-old woman, naked as the day is long (on a side note: the whole "Brazilian wax" phenomenon does not seem to have caught on with the geriatric set. Nope.). I hope that my face didn't reflect what I was thinking, which was "Wow- I didn't know skin could do that."
Aaahhh, yes. The "naked" factor.
I'm no prude, and I totally have no problem with nudity, but when you're not prepared for it, even seeing the entire Brazilian Men's Soccer team unexpectedly nekkid would be
Yeah- who am I kidding, it freaks me out to see old people buck-assed (or nearly buck-assed) naked. There you go.
Oh my beloved YWCA, what other delights do you have in store for me? I can hardly wait to find out.
Happy Tuesday, my sweaty little aerobic leprechauns. Happy Tuesday.
I like using ass fat to cook stuff in. It gives the food a certain 'kick.'
Your new digs are spiffy, grandma. Me likey.
That boob job is just wrong. It's the wrongest thing I've ever seen.
My son Skyler, having absolutely no social skills and a mean startle reflex, always just about knocks out old people when they come near him.
I will require an unedited video of you on the machine next time you go to the Y. Please forward to me ASAP when completed.
I workout here at home so I don't have to deal with people....well people that haven't been inside me at one point or another.
I grossed myself out with that one.
I used to belong to a gym where the old biddies used to go into the jacuzzi in their bras and panties. You wouldn't think that would be worse than being naked, but trust me, it was.
I finally blogged about our dinner & put up pictures!
It's interesting how oblivious people are to their own . . . exposure and how that affects others. In one of the gyms where I work (fondly dubbed "The Disco Gym" by me), women parade around the gym floor in what nearly amounts to a bikini, while the women in the locker room parade around in . . . nothing. Ugh. They're not in a hurry to cover up, if you know what I mean.
I can't wait to hear more about your Y adventures.
(Oh, and this may sound stalker-ish, but I'm following youuuuuuuuuuu.)
I'm proud of you for heading to the gym! And that women with the boobs and the pony tail...I can't. Stop. Make it go away.
or maybe i'm just speaking of myself in a bikini.
My kids will walk in on me in various states of undress. Then make disgusted faces and say "eww"! Hey darlin you walked in on ME!!!!
Rah, rah, rah, WM!!
The first few weeks are the hardest.
I just joined the gym that opened up around the block from the house and signed up for the boot camp in July. Boot camp in TEXAS in JULY.
I'll cheer you on. Amysue in Texas
I always wondered what happened to breast implants as you age. Now I know, and my eyes are bleeding. Thanks!
Dear God, WHY with that picture?
keep your iPod playlist fresh for the gym...do you have an 80's mix? a warm-up mix? a cool-down mix?
i can never handle gyms, i get bored. sounds life you have plenty of people-watching you can do though...
Old saggy ass is rather scary. Um until it's mine. Then I'm embracing it like there is no tomorrow (which will probably be tomorrow)
P.S. I'm digging the new design.
First...I LOVE, LOVE, LOVE your new look! I am so jealous. Okay now back to your blog post! I am a little freaked to see old people naked but I think that it's mostly out of fear that one day that will be me! Ugh!
Wow, I can't un-see that!! Blech!!!!
I have totally done the flaily panic dance on the treadmill. Also the the windwilling arms dance because you leaned back to far on the elipitcal. good times.
Come to Europe, guys. We all shower together. And the steam rooms/saunas are co-ed in our gym. Saggy Ass Galore! And: The bigger the tummy, the smaller the weenie.
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