I Don't Gym

         So there were only a few months left before the wedding, before being the mother-of-the-bride. I still had time to lose the weight. And I joined a gym that had a facility near the house and also one near the lab where I worked.

You know, the treadmill sounds easy and painless, in theory. And there is something called an elliptical which is supposed to be even easier. I tried to go in the mornings – around 5:30, so it didn’t dig into my work hours too much, and at the gym there would be fewer people. And I got on the elliptical and started moving my feet and legs.

I didn’t like it.

         The overhead music was dreadful, or rather, not to my taste. It gave me a headache and made me less motivated to go. The televisions mostly only had the news on that time of the day, and I had to bring ear buds to listen to any of the channels. But I did not bring any – I can’t remember why except that maybe I would have had to purchase some since they were not as ubiquitous around the house in late 2007 as they are these days. The ear buds would have also allowed me to listen to my choice of music. But again, I just didn’t bring any.

The two things I remember the most about being on the elliptical those few months attending the gym were Brittany Spears’ public meltdowns on the news and a music video on one of the other TVs of Mick Jagger and David Bowie doing the Locomotion.

         One of my co-workers, the same one who had done the Boot Camp that so impressed Mike, also belonged to the same gym. She and her husband would be there many of the same mornings I was. When I finished on the elliptical, I would walk past them on their respective ellipticals – they were both drenched in sweat while I was merely huffing and puffing.

         That’s when I realized I was probably not getting any worthwhile exercise at all.

         Working with weights at the gym was of no interest to me even though Mike would mention them almost daily. And while the indoor cycling class piqued my interest for a while, I never was able to coordinate a class with my lab hours – again, I don’t think I tried very hard.

         Swimming was fine. Except that I’m not really much of a swimmer. I like to stretch and float and do a few kicks. But to swim lap after lap? Yuck! I managed to talk myself into 18 laps when I was in the pool. I don’t recall how I got at that number and don’t know why it is I remember the number. But it was boring. And when I was done with the 18, I would think, “now what?” and all I could come up with was to do more laps – but to what end? It was still boring and most of my thoughts were about being done and getting to the lab. Other thoughts were of what I would do with myself if I ever were in jail? Walk back and forth across the cell all day long to no end?

my right foot

         So it was tough to talk myself into going to the gym at all. And then one morning at the lab, I had an accident with the liquid nitrogen. Some had spilled onto my right sneaker and left burn marks where the holes for the laces were and other parts of my foot where there was bare skin. The foot was blistered and became multi-colored. This was just the excuse I needed to not go to the gym! I couldn’t expose my foot to other people and have them wonder if I had injured myself at the gym or if it was infected and shedding germs or if I was contagious. You know, altruistic rationalizing.

         I stayed away for two or three weeks. The foot got better except for the scars of which some are still there today. The scars would not have scared any of the gym members, so I tried to motivate myself into going back. My visits, however, became ever more infrequent, and I knew I was getting nothing out of the gym, so I discontinued my membership, and in the eleven years since then, I’ve had no desire to ever go back.

         A few months later, the mother-of-the-bride was plump for the wedding.  I’m probably the only one who took note of it. And fouryears after that, I was a plump mother-of-the-bride at Amanda and Tony’s wedding. A disappointment to myself – it is the culture we live in. You know, if it came in a bottle, we’d all have great bodies!

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