Crazy Spinners

It's just before 5:00 a.m., pitch black, and the only other cars on the road are mostly folks who haven't been to bed yet. The rest don't know how to drive anyway. FYI stop signs and lights are optional.

I usually drive way too fast. I only slow down if the guy behind me is tailgating. I did that a few weeks ago, kept my speed at 45 m.p.h. and wondered why this jerk wouldn't back off. Good thing I didn't speed up or slam on my brakes. It was a cop.

I set my little car on Autopilot. It has three settings: Gym, Work, Home. Very helpful when you're half asleep - you can just turn the dial, hit the "Go" button and before you know it you're in the parking lot at the Y.

Late last fall I'm zipping down the last 1000 feet of my commute with my high beams on and spotted a raccoon on the side of the road, probably wanting to cross. I sloooooowed down, opened my passenger window and said to the little fella "Be careful, sweetie, and watch out for those crazy spinners - they'll run you down!"

The gym opens at 5:00 and the Crazy Spinners are there waiting (lined up like they all want a pound of baloney)to be sure they are signed up for NEXT week's class. Then they race down to the spinning room to claim their bike. Yes, THEIR bike. And don't be late for class or you will lose your bike to the Waiting List, which sucks unless the person that gets bumped is someone you don't like anyway. And call if you can't come or you are erased for an entire week of classes. Tough stuff. But the Crazy Spinners are a tough breed, a breed apart from most of the older exercisers that come at that hour.

No, I'm not a crazy spinner yet. I have MY parking spot and MY locker but I don't yet have claim to a bike. But you'll know when the change happens: I will conspire with others, like The Cheater, to be sure I am signed up even when I'm not there to sign up. I will pedal faster than any lowly mortal. And I'll be up to date on all the latest gossip, one of the best parts of taking classes.

Pool Rules

There are a surprising number of pool rules posted around the pool deck. I think it's gross that you have to tell people they can't pee, defecate or blow snot into the pool. I wonder why these rules aren't listed before the "be courteous" rule? Don't you think not shitting in the pool should be first???

No bandaids, no gum, no outside shoes, no food, no cut-offs. From what I can see of the crap floating around in the water no one really cares much about the rules, and there's only one person enforcing them: Evil Lifeguard. She power trips because she's a lifeguard. An indoor pool lifeguard. Maybe someone should explain that being an indoor (pasty fat) pool lifeguard is right up there with hall monitor in terms of status. This ain't Laguna Beach. Anyway, one minute she's telling you off and then she talks to you like she's your best friend. I have shunned her.

A sign that went up last year said that bathing suits had to be gender appropriate. I think if one of the boys wants to wear a nice colorful t-back ladies swim suit it should certainly be allowed. And if I wore a nice "spi-do" I'm not certain that anyone would notice (although they might on most of the other girls). I can't swim without goggles and a cap but I know I can swim without a suit. Well, except maybe for the scissor kick.

Do you think a drunk can read these signs any better than I can without my glasses before they go into the sauna to certain death???

So we may have lots of rules, but there are a few more that I'd like to suggest: No Leering. No touching. Stay on your side of the line.

Enough said. Suggestions welcome!

Next topic: CRAZY SPINNERS

Pool names

A pool name is given when the name is earned. Most aren't very flattering but they can be pretty funny.

Most of our regulars have a name, whether they know it or not. There's Backstroke Bob - a very large man who does laps for hours, all backstroke. And Sharin', whom I love dearly but she hates to share. She has all kinds of strategies for getting her own lane, like getting in with other people that she knows also hate to share. The skinny little white Irish guy with the pot belly who wears large swim fins - we call him Sea Monkey because he looks like the sea monkeys they used to advertise in comic books. Oooooh, and that really cute guy that started swimming about six months ago - Adonis. I don't care if he has ideas, or a job. I just like to look at him.

Some get labeled the very first time they walk in that door. Like the couple we called Club Med (I haven't seen them in a few years). All over tans, all over each other, dumber than a turnip. Or In the Mood Mahmoud, trying to pick up girls in the hot tub by telling them how great he was. And of course Grandma Slappy, about 100 years old, skinny, bent over, and crazy. Every time her arm came around for another freestyle stroke she's slap the water "WHACK". When we saw her coming we would pray that she wouldn't get in our lane.

One of my favorite characters is Lover Boy: fit as a fiddle and over sixty now. He is a terrible flirt. I like to splash him when he gets to the end of the lane. You think the pool water is cold? Check out the water we squirt out of our water bottles. He gave me my pool name: Skinny Little Bitch (S.L.B.). I guess it's better than being a fat little bitch.

I expect there will be more about pool names as this blog develops. I'm sure you can't wait to hear more about Jack Off Joe.

The Gym Junkie: Welcome to my world

I took swimming lessons when I was 23. I knew how to swim but I had no clue about how to do it well. I remember the first class. My legs were unshaven and purple from the cold. Sheesh - no towel big enough to hide those goosebumps. But I stuck to it and found I just loved swimming. For the past 26 years now I have organized my life around time for a workout. I am buff, albeit a bit creaky these days.

Where I live now I am a member of a wonderful facility that opens at 5:00 a.m. Typically I am up at 4:15, before the birds. Two ibuprofen and a cup of coffee later (oh, don't forget feeding the cat) I am out the door and off to the gym. 6 days a week. On the 7th day there is rest, except that the stupid cat still wants his breakfast at 4:15 so he positions himself at the top of the stairs, where he gets maximum echo and knows he is out of range of having a stuffed animal biffed at him, and yowls. So usually I get up anyway. I still have 2 ibuprofen and a cup of coffee. These days strictly decaf.

It used to be I just swam, day in and day out. I had sticky hair (everywhere), a signature scent of chlorine, and obvious goggle eyes for at least an hour afterwards. Very attactive, oui? This is still my favorite sport but after tendonitis in my left shoulder about 5 years ago, "friends" suggested "weight bearing" activities. So I began trying out other options: stability ball, pilates, step classes, lifting weights, elliptical machines, treadmill, spinning (well, you get the picture). I thought by this time in life I'd have found my inner child. Instead I found my inner core. Menapause is obviously the new adolescence. I turned into a gym junkie.

Over the years I've met some great people, quite a few weirdos, a few bitches, some hot guys, some old guys that zoom and others that are quite fabulous. We've shared laughs, told stories, crabbed about just about anything you can imagine,and gossiped incessantly - what a great bunch. In this blog I'm going to share with you some of my favorite adventures - I hope you enjoy!