Being Refreshed

Stress can take over, if you let it. If you think I'm S.L.B. now imagine what I would be like if I didn't work out.

I am not normally the type of person who sets "personal goals", especially ones like "spend more time with family" or "quit drinking" or "be more patient" because I've tried these things and discovered I was more successful at "make more 'me' time" and "drink nicer wines" and "race around passing lane road hogs". Homer Simpson onced remarked "Can't do it? Don't try". I can live by that motto.

Pretty soon they will close off part of the Y so they can refinish the hardwood floors. That should smell nice. Anyway, I'm already anxious about it. Then the week after that they will close the pool. Argh! If I want to swim I'll have to go elsewhere. I went to the Beast Beangush pool a few times last year when they closed our pool. It's the same floorplan as our Y but the details are different. It's like a bad dream: you are walking through the place and you know where everything is but the reception desk is in a different location, the tiles are a different color, the pool water is green/not blue. At 5:00 a.m. driving down I90 I almost hit a coyote crossing the road. Where the f*** am I??? What am I doing out here?????????????? But I know at least when they re-open our pool that it will be CLEAN and clear and free of things like bandaids and gum, so that's a good thing. Let it go. Let it go.

If I get to wake up and get all the way to the Y in the morning without dealing with pesky husbands, tailgaiters, Hurly Burly, construction, and assholes cutting through the parking lot on a definite diagonal, I'm great. I can have a good workout and get through the day with grace and humor. But it seems more often than I care to admit these days I get zipped by the little things and feel I have this lingering need to be refreshed - to relax a bit more, enjoy the beautiful moonshadow as I drive down 155, even to be thankful for new compression shorts, and not let things get to me so easily. So I decided to set a few personal goals.

1. Draw up a Will, Living Will, Health Care Proxy, Power of Attorney. I'm not planning on popping off anytime soon but I made the appointment so I'll finally get this taken care of just in case I drop dead on the treadmill.
2. Figure out what to do with my parents in their old, old age if they decide to bless me with moving to Albany. Make up a portfolio to hand to them if they have any questions.
3. Stop letting the little things, like the awful foam soap in the showers, get me down. Focus on the long term goals, the big picture, like surviving your 18th birthday. Every year past that, as far as I'm concerned, is a gift.

It's Friday night. Second glass of Pinot Grigio. I feel happy doing this blog and taking the night off, without anyone around (including Pesky Husband). I feel relaxed. Refreshed. It was a good week at the gym and a good week and work. Let's see how things go next week.

Elbow Room

The Littlest Mermaid is being elbowed out by Big Fat Ugly Man. We had fun rolling our eyes at each other when he hogged the best jet in the hot tub last week. He has been shunned.

When she was first at The Good Jet earlier this week he sat really really close to her so he could be the first to take it over when she vacated. Like anyone with a tailgater the best most fun tactic is to drive really really slow and take your left turn realllllly sloowwwwwwwww just to be annoying. I am proud to know The Littlest Mermaid sat there extra long and made him wait.

They were doing "maintenance" in the Ladies Locker Room on Monday so we all had to use the Children's Locker Room instead, complete with smaller lockers, smaller shower stalls, no makeup/hairdrying space except the sinks (conveniently located right next to the toilets so gawd forbid all that exercise made your system work for you and you need a bit of privacy). Puppy Sweet Cheeks took over five lockers for all her things. I think I have some competetion there. Anyway, the funniest part was 8 of us all trying do our makeup, dry our hair, and also make room for those that needed to wash their hands after using the loo in the space of two sinks, including Butch, who, by the way, appears to be female in all respects. We did fine except for blowing a fuse because we had more than two hair dryers running at the same time. What can we say? Sometimes the Y sucks.

The Children's Locker Room has a working scale, FYI. The new chintzy one that they put in the Women's Locker Room is a small, digital scale. Very nice. I weighed myself on it, went for a pee, then came back and weighed myself again and it appeared that I lost 4 ounces. That was satisfying. Except now the battery has already died after just one week. I made a bet with Cookie that within 3 weeks the stupid thing will get stolen. If you want to get in on the bet just let me know.

One of the best reasons for going to the gym early in the morning is Elbow Room. It's not as crowded as later in the morning ("don't these people have jobs"?, you might moan to yourself on those days that you aren't working or get to go to work late), or in the evening (and in the evening it's mostly dysfunctional crazy stressed out working folks and youngins posing and looking for pickups and they do look good, by the way), and bonus points: the toilets are clean. So you've got all this lovely space and some stinky guy decides to take up residence on the bench, or the bike, or the treadmill right next to you when there are many others they could have chosen instead. Grrrrrrrrrrr. Chill out, S.L.B. - everyone needs elbow room to do their thing, including me.

Which is why I left my weekend company to their own devices and ventured forth for a workout both Saturday and Sunday instead of playing hostess, hoping they would all have showered and eaten and had some privacy so I could come back home and eat right away because I Am Starved and then we can just get on with the day. Except that they hadn't showered, or eaten. They Slept In. My cat, Bob, is obviously not doing his job of howling at the top of the stairs the way he does normally. I smooched him and explained the situation and suggested he scratch at some doors tomorrow morning.

We can all get along as long as we know when to make a little room for others in our lives, and when to put our elbows out. Right now I've got my elbows out and company went to the movies and I get some privacy and a chance to do a blog. Life is good.

Weighing In

A woman's weight is a very personal thing. No one would dare ask you, it seems, except if you are thin. NOTE: Like everyone else, even I am going to lie about my weight.

There was a public librarian in Iowa who was fired from her job a few weeks ago because she wouldn't reveal her weight and height for a new city ID card. They insisted they needed this data in case there was an "emergency where they needed this information to identify her". Whatever the hell kind of freakin' emergency do they think will happen at a little public library in the middle of nowhere??? More power to you, girl. I think even if she HAD filled out the form she likely would have lied about her weight anyway. Stupid bureaucrats.

When I went to the doctor a few weeks ago she put me on the scale, fully clothed, with shoes, and recorded my weight in my file. Then she made me take my shoes OFF to measure my height. I said NO FAIR you have to reweigh me, which she did. I made her change her data. I watched just to make sure.

The scale in the ladies locker room has been fussy the past couple of weeks. On Monday (after two days of eating) I got on and shifted the counterbalance up a pound, one more, two, three, SEVEN!? YIPES. NO WAY. I checked and sure enough it didn't balance at zero. I reported it and found out later that in fact it was busted and is going to be replaced, hopefully with a scale that isn't as chintzy as the old one. I was thinking of all those really really really fat women that had been dieting like crazy and working out every day only to discover their weight was going up and up and up. Do they work out more or give up entirely? I guess they will have to weigh their options.

I've seen women so obsessed that they weigh themselves before and after their workout. Did anyone see the laminated signs on the fitness equipment upstairs that read "Single Set Users Have the Right Away". They finally changed the signs but not before many of us more alert gym junkies had a good laugh. Anyway, we may need the same kind of sign on the scale in the ladies locker room.

One big guy told me after a spinning class a while back that he had weighed in at work as part of a Weight Watchers program only to find out he had gained 7 pounds in the past year. In April I gained 5 pounds in one week on vacation. Have I lost it yet? I'll never tell.

If you've lost weight - way to go! - if not (and you're trying), you may have a way to go, but don't give up. Welcome to the Y. Now go away. Uh, I mean, have a nice day!

Pressure

Keep pushing. Go a little further, lift a little more, go a bit faster, but don't give up until it hurts, which is most of the time.

This time it's my back. I have no idea what I did to it - probably something stupid like trying to pick up my beer when I should have had the help get it for me. But do I stop working out? Not a chance. I go for a massage. The lady I've been seeing knows just where to find the sore spots, the ones that she pushes at that make me flinch and she says "sorry sorry" then keeps at it until it actually feels better. Worth every penny. No pressure.

I told my doctor that I can swim the first mile just fine, then it starts to hurt. Her advice: Stop after one mile. That will be a $20 co-pay, please. Squeeze. I tell myself I just have to change my workout for awhile, maybe take out a second mortgage.

"Push" the spinning instructor shouts out, "PUSH". I sit up front in the coat closet they call the spinning room. Bike #2. My bike. Anyway, I can't see anyone except three other people. After class yesterday Spinning Instructor told me that half the class just putzed along. I suggested maybe they were out of shape, hurting, half asleep (we start at 5:30, FYI), or hungover, and I know about the hangover workouts. Today I swam my mile and just did some mat work. It was great - nice and easy - relax, relax. It was tempting to just crap out with a juice box and ask the lady in the fitness center for Story Time, but maybe that would be pushing my luck.

I had a general physical on Wednesday. Everything was good - except my blood pressure, that is, so I'll have to make some changes. Meditation, deep breathing, less salt. One of the recommendations I read was to eat an ounce of 70% chocolate a day. So I will force myself to do this too - I'm sure it won't be easy. FYI it goes great with beer and pretzels. The pressure is on.

Being Cool

When you're 15 there is nothing more important in the whole wide world than being cool. If you aren't cool by the time you are in your late 40s then face it: YOU ARE NOT COOL.

Appearing bored does not mean you are cool. Wearing retro 70s clothes that are cut too low, too tight, and are too bright will not disguise the fact that you are not cool (and that you are over 40). Talking too much is not cool (best left to tedious drunks anyway).

What's with that old lady who wears her sunglasses in the pool? Let's call her PolarEyes. I don't think she is trying to be cool. Maybe she's ducking the paparazzi. Wearing sunglasses is usually cool but in her case it's just weird. Now, that big black dude that sits in the hot tub with his sunglasses on is totally cool. Never says a word but when he does he's really laid back and friendly.

I was working in my library with two salesmen awhile back and I asked politely if they would mind taking the stairs up a level. The one guys says to me "I worked out for an hour this morning on the Stairmaster," then smiled at me like he was so cool. Hey, way not cool. One of the Rules of Cool is never seem desperate. And the Stairmaster of all things??? Too silly for words.

Hey Guys: Totally not cool are cut-off sweatpants, really short shorts, white sport socks pulled up tight around your calves, long loose hair when working out, and making loud grunting noises when you are lifting weights, especially if it looks like you really shouldn't be having a problem lifting them (should I offer to help?). And honestly, try lifting the corners of your mouth for a change. Looking mean will not help if you are still trying to be cool.

For the last 10 days the pool temperature was way too warm. It was Not Cool. But today it was much better - cool and clean and deliciously quiet. And Adonis was there. I think he is cool. He wore black, was very mysterious, and even though I know he could have gone faster and further, he didn't overdo it. I may be a dork, but I feel my own personal coolness skyrocket just being around someone that cool.

Heat Wave

I think one of the best inventions of the 20th century was underarm deoderant/anti-perspirant. Too bad not every one has heard about it.

It's been hot here in upstate NY - upwards to 100 degrees - for over a week now. I have moved slowly (not easy for me as a rule) among my air conditioned house, my air conditioned car, to the air conditioned Y,to the air conditioned car again, to the air conditioned library, back to my car which is now well over 6000 degrees Kelvin, and home to my air conditioned house. I almost ran over a runner at 6:00 pm on Thursday night, temperatures in the 90s. I almost stopped to offer him a ride.

And what's with the Big Sweaty Men, in this weather, going into the sauna and steam room at the gym? "Hey boys, why not just step outside?""If you want to break into a sweat why don't you try doing some exercise for a change?" Needless to say I stayed out of there, and kept my trap shut.

I went to SPAC on Wednesday night. 90 degree temperatures even as late as 11:00 p.m. I wondered what it was like for the dancers, in costume and makeup, under lights, with tights, leaping and twirling about. I wondered if they used Ban, and who does their dry cleaning. But they were beautiful to watch and it all seemed so effortless, like they didn't even notice how hot it was. I was in the balcony crammed in with alot of stinky people, including many that got all dolled up for the ballet only to find themselves all wet and wrinkled before the performance started. Sweat was dripping down the back of my neck and I wasn't even moving. The only thing moving in the balcony were fans and mosquitos, who, as always, found me quite delicious, especially my ankles and the backs of my knees.

Without the weather I wonder sometimes if anyone would have anything to talk about. This week I would politely ask "So how are you?" just to be nice, and all I would get in return was the one word answer, "Hot". I guess I didn't really want to know how anyone was anyway. And that's about it for hot topics in the locker room, too. What a bore. Think about it - what would it be like if there was no sun, nor rain, no snow, no breeze, no change over to darkness, just gray and neutral all the time? We'd have to resort to gossip again.

Ladies, can we please control the talcum powder thing? You are going to sweat right through it anyway. And what's with that strange woman who works out and changes into her work clothes and never showers? Yuck. I'm sure her co-workers are quite impressed with the fact that she exercises.

Remaining Flexible

I hate when things get in my way, life unexpected, especially when I'm already having a hard time keeping it together. Must expand mind, straighten up, spread out, remain flexible, or I'm going to explode. Be warned, Little Bug: next time I come at you with a tension band - RUN.

I slept in until 6:00 a.m.: it's July 5th, Monday, almost no one on the road as I speed off to the Y. ARRGH. I get behind a drunk - weaving all over the place, driving 30, 35, 40, 30 again, in a 45 zone. I was going to take my time and amuse myself by watching him go into the ditch, but instead I passed him doing 65 illegally over two turn lanes, which was great for the heart rate. No time for this! I make it through the yellow light (small victories!) and finally get into the pool. Ahhhhh. It's already 80 degrees out and the water feels SO nice.

Only now I have to deal with The Talker. NOTE TO SELF: Don't get him started. He told me about his vest (even though I didn't ask about it) - it has a built in heart monitor that will help to maximize his workout. When I suggested that it would probably also warn him of a pending heart attack he didn't really get it. I think he repeated himself twice, started into bragging about some competition, sometime, somewhere as I sweetly tuned him out. I really needed this swim. Now. Earplugs in, cap on, goggles squished in place, 80 laps and I didn't need to share my lane. Sweet. No one got in my way.

I had to take a break from swimming, and some weight lifting moves, for over a month earlier this year because I injured my shoulder. I decided to spend extra time focusing on flexibility, figuring more time running or biking would probably kill me. Reach for toes, touch toes, head to knees, head on floor, pull on those hammies. I can do stuff now that I haven't been able to do since Middle School, plus I can drink. Being older certainly has it's benefits. But the trick is to Remain Flexible. Should that be so hard?

That's the problem: so much to do, so little time. I try to stay organized, plan my workouts (with time now also for stretching), my outfits, my work schedule, big projects and routine tasks, my dinner plans, my weekend, an excursion, and Life decides to try and trip me up. I always think it's the measure of the person how s/he deals with problems, conflict and crisis, and I try to Remain Flexible. But wait! WELCOME TO MENOPAUSE. Sometimes I can't shut it off, I toss and turn, I get so mad I stomp around, or so sad I just can't shake it. At least I didn't force buddy off the road but I might the next time.

Friday July 2: 4th of July long weekend approaching and a friend of my husband died suddenly in Nova Scotia, so he (husband) drove up for the service. Left behind with no company - just alot of chores to do on my own. An Aunt died on Saturday. Ugh. More sadness. But I'll try my best to Remain Flexible and enjoy the time off, think of old friends and family and the good times, relax in the hot weather, admire the gardens, and read a good book. I also look forward to My Time at the Y again tomorrow where I can leave my troubles outside that door.

But today I might go buy me one of those crazy vests and go for a drive, see if I can find my heart and get it going again. If you want to come along just let me know! Might be fun.