Aliens at the Y

I have evidence that there are aliens, yes, real aliens from outer space, who are Y members. They only use the facility at night after the humans vacate. This is what I know:

They are very large. This is certain because in the morning the seats on the bikes in the spinning room are set as high up as they can go. That's about four and a half feet high. So these aliens, at least the ones that like to spin, must have really looooooooooong appendeges in order to reach the pedals. I assume they pedal with their "legs", but of that I'm not sure. In addition, it isn't unusual to find the squat shoulder pads sitting at about 6 feet, meaning our overnight guests could be well in excess of 7 feet tall. I've been in early and found the rack loaded with the heavy weights, so we know they are strong, too. PLUS - they always push the mats together outside the main door to the Fitness Center. These mats are sized for earthlings, after all. It's good to know that they are working on flexibility and abs, as much as they are on "cardio" and strength.

And I know they have hearts because two of the treadmills have been "out of order" for a couple of weeks now. I'm sure that these two units have been set up just for our nightime members. I tried both of them one morning, turned them on in turn (trying to find one for an earthgirl), and immediately the belt was going really fast and the heart attack monitor was going off. I think, in addition to having really long appendeges, that they "walk" really really fast. Their natural heart rate is way slower than ours are. Apparently just stepping on these two treadmills is enough to set off the alarms if you are human. Of course, I reported it, and nothing has been done, so there must be a reason. But I'm not deceived.

Lately it must be rutting season, or they've started up a boot camp, or something, because there is evidence that aliens have been cruising around in the parking lot at night. In the heat of whatever they are doing they exude some kind of tarry substance, leaving squiggly lines of this black, gooey material all over the asphalt. A "paving crew" has been in there the last few days, but I can't figure out why they would be there as early as 5:00 a.m. when it's not even light out. I think they're the FBI and that they are on to what's going on around here. I looked for Muldor but no luck. Sigh.

Most, if not all, of the aliens like the pool: they drink chlorinated water. I know this because their pee is blue. And they are all male, as evidenced from the fact that they leave the toilet seats up and they don't flush. Ask anyone who is there when the facility opens in the morning (for us humans).

So I believe there's a reason why the overnight "cleaning" staff are all big guys, and that our facility isn't open 24/7. Keep an eye open. There's a chance some of them might be there during "open" hours.....

S.L.B. Through the Lookin' Glass

Just like Alice, I thought. Here I was at the East Greenbush Y and everything was the same, except backwards. Or at least slightly twisted and a bit morphed.

Our pool was closed for maintenance last week, even though the dusty fish hanging from the ceiling are still there and no cleaner, I'm sure. I did the 15 highway miles to East Greenbush twice to go for a swim, and, unlike Maintenance 2009, at least a coyote didn't cross the road right in front of me on my way out, making me think: Where the f&*# am I!???

The layout is almost exactly like our gym but everything is a bit different. Very creepy. The weirdest part was that East Greenbush also had a Jack Off Joe, a Miss Middle of the Lane, and a Wonder Woman, only JoJ had a mustache, MMotheLane was fat, and WW was blonde. Same folks, only backwards. When Tweedledum and Tweedledee went at it in the locker room, complaining about who knows what, I realized I was definitely not in Kansas anymore.

The pool was green, not blue. And the water was salty, not tongue numbingly chlorinated. The lighting was subdued, not overlit (I look better in low light, FYI). The salty water was really gross. Made me think of pee. After 2 miles I half imagined I was at a beach (delerious, for sure) and looked forward to crapping out on the sand. Get this: they have a mop inside the door from the pool with instructions to clear your puddles if you didn't dry off before entering. Bite me, E.G.

I liked being anonymous. I wondered if they had a name for me. When Sharin' arrived I almost couldn't place her. The lifeguard starting hitting on her (she's gorgeous and buxom, unlike yours truly) giving her tips on how to improve her stroke. HEY: Take the highchair honey, she's more than you can handle. Safely.

So we're back in our own pool, the whirlpool is open, as is the sauna, and the gym, and we're getting back into the routine. The colors are right, all the equipment and lighting are as expected, the hot tub jets are as they should be. Sweet. I have to wonder if dreamt the whole thing. NOT. Nice to be back. I missed you guys.

Balance

There are two sure fire ways to lose your balance: giggling, and not giggling.

If I'm feeling way too serious about everything then I know that it's time to take a break during my exercise regime to make faces at Peanut while she's trying to stand still on one foot until we both start giggling and she falls over. 2 points.

Strength. Endurance. Speed. Flexibility. Balance. These are the goals, but balance is definitely something I need to work at. Before she fell over, Peanut and I were practicing balance exercises early last week. We did "trees" - on a windy day, for sure. Just trying not to fall over was pretty funny. I think I like stability balls for the same reason. If you lose your concentration it's easy to roll over. Guitar Man can kneel on the ball with his hands over his head. "BOO!" Hee hee.

Christening someone with their secret "pool name" is also good for a laugh. Sharin' and I had fun on yesterday talking about The Spitter. Every wheezy breath he takes sounds like "kgkgkgh" (stroke) "kgkgkgh" (stroke) "kgkgkgh" (stroke), then, when he gets to the wall he horks and blows and spits. NYC bus drivers took 3200 days of paid leave last year to heal from the workplace injury "being spit on by passengers". When I see The Spitter I am prepared to move as far away as possible, since now I know that being spit on is, according to the Transport Workers Union "...physically and psychologically traumatic". I'm guessing that just being grossed out probably doesn't hold up in court.

Diet and exercise. Work and play. Meditation and conversation. It's all about balance. Poobah says I have a good backstroke and looked like Esther Williams in the pool last week. But she had Balance. I remember her water skiing on a stack of pretty ladies - and she was still smiling! I think Little Bug is working too hard but she's opened a beautiful new store and I know it's going to be a success because even a cheapskate like me plans to go back and buy some really chic stuff. I wish her Balance, since I know she's stressed. Glad to see she is still finding time to swim, and to smile. Mental note to self: tell her she is loved and, next time I see her, try to make her giggle. She needs it worse than I do.