Maybe
I'm just a little naive but when I started exercising
again I didn't expect all the unforeseen pain. I’m not
talking about the sore muscles or other physical aches
that plague my body most of the time. I’m not talking
about the pure exhaustion from running or the excruciating
joints after a particularly long bike ride. I am talking
about the little pains that seem to go with exercising on
a daily basis.
First there is the laundry. I can’t believe how much
extra stuff I have to wash on a daily basis. I also have a
collection of t-shirts, sweatpants, socks and other misc.
clothing that I thought I would wear but didn’t. For
instance, the tie-dye bike jersey looked great on the
manikin but when I stretch the fabric across my bulging
waist it loses some of it’s cool symmetry. Also, why do
clothes get holes in them. I’ll bet half my t-shirts
have little holes in different places and it really
bothers me. Maybe I should make 10 years a cut-off time
for the useful life of these shirts but I love them so
much. You have to keep in mind that BeeGee’s T-shirts
are not available like they once were.
There has been a fair amount of pain at the pool lately
too. My gym has a 25 meter pool with 3 lanes and
inevitably there is a family outing going on when I get
there. Mom and Dad have the outside lanes while the 3 kids
hog the middle one. I don’t mind waiting for someone to
finish a workout but hanging on the lane dividers while
discussing dinner plans for 20 minutes really hacks me
off. By the way, the range on those blaster water guns is
incredible and I think they should be banned from the
swimming area. Those things could put an eye out!
The weight room is another classic place for pain. I
don’t mean heaving the iron; I’m talking about getting
to the iron. The same muscle bound geek is always there no
matter what time I go in. Does this guy wait around the
corner until I get there or is he hired by the gym to make
it look like they have a lot of members? I once asked the
guy, after 15 sets, if he was finished with the bench
press. He curtly replied, “No!” and stared at me
defiantly.
“That’s ok,” I quipped, “I just need the 2 pound
dumbbells you’re using to keep your workout diary from
flying away. Got to keep those biceps in shape.”
What about the people on the indoor track. You know
their faces well because they are always going the wrong
way. Is their need to be different so great that I have to
worry about clobbering the little old lady with her hand
weights around every corner. The guy that runs as loudly
as he can bothers me too. I know you are passing me for
the third time in one lap but I don’t need you to make
loud panting and grunting noises as you come around to let
me know you are there. Your damn clip clop footsteps are
plenty warning!
Does no towel guy have a clue? He’s the one sweating
all over the equipment but never wipes it down when he is
done. I would be happy to lift the ban on blaster water
guns for 5 minutes of target practice on this guy.
Getting to the gym has become a problem as well. While
walking my three miles on the treadmill I have to wonder
to myself, why did I bother to drive the 1 1/2 miles to
get here? I don't mind walking on the treadmill or the
pain of the sore muscles that go with it. I do, however,
draw the line at what I think could be considered torture.
I can't stand the guy that changes the TV to the golf
channel when I have 3 miles left to do. So if you see me
on the treadmill with a huge blaster water gun slung over
my shoulder you'll know why.
