Eight

I'm grumpy. Can't I just stay that way? What's with all the cheery people at the gym early in the morning? I know Wonder Woman got her eight this morning. She's so friendly!

Thursday I just had to escape a busy pool. After 2000, 6:00 a.m., I towel dried, changed into running gear, and grabbed just the key to my car  because I wanted to grab my ball cap on the way out. I left aside the remote opener since it won't fit in my fanny bag. Anyway, as I insert the key into the passenger side door, something I NEVER do, I discovered someone had busted my lock trying to break in, who knows when. LIKE IT NEED THIS. I ran fast, it was very cold, my hair was wet, it was really really windy, and I hardly felt a thing I was so punched up. Better than punching in a wall, I suppose. 

Three days later I'm still grumpy. Here are some thoughts on what I should probably do:

EIGHT RULES FOR FEELING BETTER AND NOT BEING GRUMPY

1. Drink 8 glasses of water a day. Pee often. This also gives you extra breaks from your job, which, as a State worker, I can say with authority is the best way to goof off if the job is getting you down.
2. Sleep 8 hours a night. If you can't because you are frustrated and unhappy, bash your head against a wall until you pass out.
3. Eat 8 servings of fruit and vegetables every day. Wine is not a fruit.
4. Detox for at least 8 days. No (1) alcohol, no (2) potential allergens like eggs or nuts or shellfish, no (3) red meat, no (4) refined sugar, no (5) wheat, no (6) caffeine, no (7) added salt, and definitely (8) nothing with the word "Doodle" in the name of the food product.
5. Avoid mean people. If you can't, ignore them. If you can't, gossip about them, even if it's all lies.
   
6. Do something fun, like take a walk along the river on a beautiful afternoon instead of sitting at your computer, like I'm doing right now. Lover Boy: shopping IS fun!
7. Close your eyes and breath. Eight long deep breaths. Say "ooooooooooohhhhhhhhhhmmmmmm" until your lips are buzzing. 
8. Go to the gym.

EIGHT TOP REASONS TO GO TO THE GYM

1. You ignored your own advice again, drank more than you should have, and now you need to work off a hangover.
2. You have no place else to go and anyway, you need a shower. 
3. You are awake and have been since three-thirty so you might as well get up and go. 
4. It's the only time you actually drink water instead of coffee and wine. 
5. You ate too much for dinner again last night and you need to work off what seems like 40,000 calories. 
6. You need to get in shape for some reason, whatever that is. 
7. You enjoy working out because you lack imagination.
8. You are frustrated and you hope it might actually save you from yourself, and if you stay in bed you may never get up.

EIGHT TOP REASONS TO STAY IN BED

1. More than 4 inches of fresh snow, whatever that is.
2. You forgot to set the alarm. Actually, this is more of an excuse than a reason, but I'll accept it.
3. Something hurts. I mean, it's probably been hurting for a while now and you've been ignoring it. But now it really hurts and maybe, just maybe, for once, you can take the day off from working out.
4. You stayed up too late again last night watching something on TV, even if you can't remember what it was.
5. You ate and drank too much last night and you honestly believe if Hurly Burly pulls you over this morning you might be DUI.
6. You are really, really, really tired and you are afraid if you go to the gym you will die.
7. Your partner is out of town and you have the whole bed to yourself, and no one is snoring or farting except you.
8. Sleepy, fuzzy warm cats in the bed with you. 

Actually, Cookie, WW, Sharin', T.B.B.: The best thing in the world for moving out of the doldrums is friends like you. So next time I see you please feel free to be really, really freakin' chipper and I'll do my best to return the favor. Loves ya!

Try Athlon

I don't know who Athlon is, but if he's cute, I might want to try him on.

It's good to try new things, challenge yourself, struggle with a new goal. As far as I'm concerned, a Try Athlon has three segments: packing up my big girl work outfit for transport to the gym in the morning without forgetting anything, getting it on without putting a run in the hose and exiting the gym without the tags hanging out, and getting to work in record time after my workout looking halfway like the professional I pretend to be now that I'm no longer pretending to be a superhero working on big Try Ceps. But I don't know why I bother, because, when I get to the finish line (my office), no one at work notices when I come in and they really don't give a shit what I'm wearing, as long as I'm clean. Maybe they won't notice the coffee stain on the front of my white sweater, either.

This is what I think: the outfit should be practical, whether we are working or working out. It should fit well. It should show off our assets, and our asses only when they are very nice. It should NOT look affected, as if we spent alot of time thinking about what to wear, but it should look like we are at least trying, and it shouldn't smell. Work is important because we have bills to pay, like our Y membership, and there are always new clothes to buy. The workout itself is also important. It should fit your age and body type and interests well, and it should help you improve your assets, so you should always try a little bit harder if nothing hurts. However, I suggest you keep it personal, focused, and self contained. You always notice the dinks that are more interested in knowing if other people are noticing them or not, and that's when we notice their stupid outfit or that they are really overheated and close to stroke, and they smell. Best to lay low, if you know what I mean.

Our daily Try Athlon should NOT be confused with a Triathlon, which, according to Thunderthighs, consists primarily of gaining alot of weight, wearing really tight Spandex shorts and sports bras without a top, and cornering you in the locker room to tell you all about her "Try Training" for Pine Bush. Constantly - trying - again - to start - a conversation - all about her Try Training. I'm guessing she thinks it should be easier to impress a stupid middle aged lady than her peers, but I'm a gym rat and this is a LITTLE EVENT (325 Yard Lake Swim - 11.5 Mile Bike - 3.25 Mile Run), so I'm really NOT impressed. And having already had like 11.5 conversations with her about it already, I'm done with it. She is TRYING too hard.

I know we can all try a little harder, including me in the Try Not To Be Such a Bitch department. Even when I am nice, underneath there's this little devil just havin' the funniest conversation about what's going on around me.

Emergency Preparedness

You never know when life will throw you for a loop, or a friend will throw you a lifeline. Shit happens, so let's all do our best to BE PREPARED.

T.L.B. is having weird dreams. Good to know I'm not the only one. Her house alarm went off in the middle of the night a few days ago and she confessed: GRAB GYM BAG AND HARD BOILED EGG AND ESCAPE. She is well prepared for emergencies, because she knew enough to know that her gym bag had almost everything she needed to survive, except the snack. Selfish me forgot to offer her shelter in the event that something really bad had happened.

The Goddess had a tampon emergency but she was well prepared, almost, because she at least had a quarter for the vending machine, which jammed (what a surprise), leaving her to reach out to all us early morning 50+ women hoping one of us might actually still have a tampon, despite our age. I was also well prepared , having said item handy and willing to give, a pleasure, really, since she wanted to swim and the stupid vending machine was only giving her sanitary napkins, which, as you may know, are NOT useful inside a swim suit unless you are only sunbathing. I hope her day only got better. Too bad I didn't have a tweezer handy to retrieve the quarter.

Speaking of weird dreams, pool dreams are a recurring theme for me. The other night I had a dream with Sharin' in it. She was sitting upright in a large paper bag in a bright red swim suit wearing shiny red high healed shoes, singing out that her old man had left her but she got to keep the shoes, and everyone in the pool stopped and cheered and clapped their hands. Very weird, but the point is, if he's going to leave you be sure you keep possession of the things that matter most, and let your friends know if you need some love. What you get to keep might be just your sanity, but a cool pair of red heels could come in very handy in an emergency. FYI, Sharin', you were BEAUTIFUL.

OK just to keep on target, here is a short list of things you should always have with you when leave for the Y:

Keys

Lock

Chapstick/lipgloss

Money

Water bottle. With water in it so you don't have to fill the bottle from water fountains with pink moldy germy slime on them, which Puppy Sweet Cheeks has also noted recently in response to my earlier blog about pink things. Pink is cute but not on the waterfountain, and no, pink lipgloss on the rim of my bottle will not protect me.

I carry an oversize gym bag with about everything I need in it to survive a nuclear attack, except, of course, just a stupid bandaid, which I had to beg off the fitness center earlier this week to protect a nice 3rd degree burn on the back of my left hand that I got fishing toast out of the toaster oven. The members are great, so are the staff. The G. Y is, as always, a great place to be.

Take a Number

The pool was really crowded last Monday, 4/2/2012. Instead of swimming circles those of us already in the water did a really excellent job of ignoring those left waiting, intently swimming up and down without a glance upward. Yeah, boys, take a number, 'cause YOU slept in, heh heh heh.

We stacked up Bachelor No. 1, Bachelor No. 2, and Bachelor No. 3. It was hard to pick a favorite because they all looked alike, sitting on the bench, slumped over, trying to look cool instead of irritated that no one would let them in. They were all wearing identical black jammers - isn't that expressive? But NO one would get in with D.G., whose pool name, FYI, is D.G. He is Mayor of Lane 8. He insists on swimming with paddles even when there is someone in the lane with him. I'm sure he is thinking that maybe they'll leave. I say he's just plain weird. He gets visibly irritated if he has to share, which happened just a couple of weeks ago when a lady joined him on the wall. When T.B.B. asked how he was, he said "Not so good", and when asked why, he explained that it was his "butterfly day". He was like so freaked out to have someone mess with his routine and invade "his" space, and he butterflied anyway, which also makes him an asshole.

So now we're taking bets on Batman versus Stefanaki. S got all the way to the pool this morning, feet in the water, then up and left. I find out later that he is in a feud with Batman and it seems the Bat is winning because S left the facility altogether and swore he wasn't coming back. I always figured, like me, he'd be thrown out before he quit. However, I'm happy to have the free lane because I am selfish and petty, but even money says he'll be back. He's a pool gym junkie, and besides, I'm pretty sure he's already worn out his welcome at most of the other facilities in the city.

I'm doing my best to bring down my blood pressure: I don't like the high numbers, they scare me. Gumdrop is helping by teaching me a little meditation, and it might work if I could just ignore the fact that I'm menapausal. SO - take three deep breaths, countdown from 10, close your eyes, relax, dream of a real butterfly day with big flowers and bugs and blue skies and puff puff clouds, be at one with the chlorine, accept who you are and love others for who they are are, even if they are assholes.

Yes, I bitch, therefore I am. But I'm taking a number and I hope it isn't up anytime soon.

Leave No Trace

After a run on the treadmill, all sweaty and red faced, I sit on a bench for a moment, ready to do some free weights, and put on my lifting gloves. When I stand up I notice I've left a butt-print from my wet compression shorts. Think of it as a sort of heart-shaped heinie smile.

I wipe it down with my sweaty towel, then try to disguise my trace with a water bottle and my little yellow mesh bag (containing one stretching band, lip gloss, comb, extra hair tie, and some gum just in case last night's garlic is still kickin') in the hopes that no one will push into my space. This is very territorial of me, for sure.

As fodder for the gossip circuit, I coat myself in viteeyum E oil before I workout so my skin shines and looks healthier than it really is. It also smells nicer than B.O., FYI. After I do my weight lifting circuit I always leave time for some mat work to stretch, do some abs, and basically crap out because by then I'm wiped. And for sure I have to wipe the mat down, too, because I've left my oily mark and it would just be nasty to let the next dude slide around in my goo. The paper towel always comes up filthy, which is NOT me. Ask me why I don't clean it before I start.

Which leads me to today's heading, "Leave No Trace." Counter to popular opinion that I'm some sort of total gym bitch, I was a GOOD Girl Scout from the age of 5 to 18; this mantra was very much a part of our G.S. party outings. So let me offer up a few hot tips:

Don't just wipe down the spinning bike. Please wipe up the floor where you left a puddle of sweat for the next person to wipe out on.

Please put your toys/equipment away when you are done. I HATE walkin' around looking for the orange medicine ball or a blue flex band or the 15 pound weights.

Please put your garbage in the waste receptacles provided. The bottom of a locker is NOT a receptacle.

If you are female and you pee after leaving the pool please dry off the seat when you are done.

If you weigh yourself after you pee after leaving the pool please also dry off the scale when you are done.

If you comb out your hair in the shower please do not decorate the walls of the shower stall with it. This is just disgusting.


The Y starts out clean and I know that staff there work hard to keep it that way, so I would appreciate everyone's cooperation. I like my toilet water blue and I don't like my water fountains pink. So what is the pink in the ladies' showers these days??? I wonder if there is an equivalent contaminant on the men's. I hope it isn't pink.

Speaking of heinies, today Lover Boy got two. Lucky man.

xxx