Fun At the Gym

I can't quite put a name to him, I'm waffling between deerHunter and teenageIronMan (as in I Was a Teenage IronMan) TIM for short. Whatever, he's currently an FNG from my point of view, a big guy and a serious weight lifter when he's not out there in the hinterland thinning the herd. As you know, I'm all for that! (Bill glares at the imaginary deer in his office eating his 'lucky' bamboo). I'll keep an eye on TIM and something will come to me, but for now TIM will do.

Weird vibe in the gym today. By some collective group consciousness thing we all decided to get in a bit earlier than we normally do. I was in a bathroom stall in serious labor, giving birth when IronMan called out, "Glad to see you could make it today." Yeah, static from IronMan at 5:30am mmhmm rolls eyes. I smile at the greeting from inside my sanctuary and explain to him that I just needed a day off, you know listen to my body kind of garbled message I read from all the bike books littering the area near my bed. If I listened to my body I'd still be around 240lbs and not blogging. Yes, yes I know there are some that pray for that. So I only half listen to my body, you know like I would to my wife when she's nagging er helping me better myself on something or other. I know when the decibel level gets above a certain threshold (body or wife) it's time to look up and take heed, oh yes you have my attention now, are you sure you want it?

The mixed message from the bike books boil down to this:

To bike is to suffer and to suffer is to bike. You must endure incredible hardship when on the bike suffering, if you're not suffering then you're not doing it right and therefor not biking at all, you're relaxing, growing fatter, slower, dying right in front of my eyes. You'll never amount to anything on the bike unless you're in wretched agony, gasping, dying (but the right kind of dying, not that zone 0.5 resting heart rate crap you call biking), miserable on some interval workout or six hour tempo ride. Heap torment upon anguish on yourself and then you're approximating what it is to bike. But listen to your body and if you feel tired then take the day off.

Huh?

As I reflect on the above paragraph I wonder what it is with me and the bike? Maybe I could do the whole suffering thing with a weekly, hourly visit to Madame Nightingale's House of Bondage and Torment? Something to ponder I guess.

So today's tribulation was on the elliptical. AT Everest managed to injure herself and will be healing for a bit so now's the time to grab the elliptical as far as I'm concerned. I'm still experimenting with LSD but feeling a growing need for some serious interval work. Shrug.

IronMan, probably in some blind panic, has been conducting a What Are You Getting Your Sweetheart for Valentine's? survey. goodMood is thinking a nice dinner, IronMan asks me.

"A real hard drive, so my wife can back up her computer."

This brings a torrent of giggles from ponyTail over to my left on one of the treadmills, "A real hard drive, huh?" followed by more giggling. I get it, smile and needless to say the conversation headed towards the gutter filled with innuendo and double entendres. It was pretty funny. TIM's to my immediate left on another treadmill, waiting his turn for the elliptical and looking sorta threatening about it. I'm giving him a running countdown of time left until I'm done. He was a BIG HELP with the conversation!

I notice allyMcBeal on the third treadmill, farthest to my left. It must be treadmill day. I'm wondering how she does it. She just appears, must be some sort of teleportation device or something. She's jogging along reading a magazine. Both TIM and I are mystified at how she can do that at all! Show off! :-)

I hop off the elliptical, wipe it down and do some sit-up/get-ups. My back starts to whine about this so I back off getting serious with ABS and look around for something else to do. TIM asks if I'm going to be doing some bench presses today. He's put about nine million pounds on the bar and is motioning me over to give it a try. Pshaw! I tell him to let me know when he's serious, I one arm curl that weight. I then try to get out of his line of sight hoping he'll forget about me. He probably would if I could keep my fat mouth shut.

I'm eying the bench press bar and the 250lbs on it or so (TIM's just warming up) and I want to see if I can even lift it. I ask if I can try that and TIM says, "Sure." ponyTail is standing over by the Assisted Smith watching with that kind of expectation you see when someone's watching America's Funniest Videos. I push the weight up, TIM standing over me to help with the bar but I don't even try and clear it off the safety. I wish I had now but next time I will when TIM or IronMan's about and ponyTail has the paramedics on speed dial.

The gym is filled with go-getters and ponyTail calls over to TIM asking if she can use the chin-up machine (for lack of a better term) to do some AB work. Agreeable TIM says certainly when I notice under it another barbell.

What's this?

The barbell has only one side of it loaded with weight. I don't know how much, enough that I'm not real interested in trying it. Whatever 'it' is. I ask TIM and he explains that you do rows with it. You straddle the bar, keeping your feet as close together as possible, bend you legs slightly, grip the bar as close as possible to the weight (one hand behind the other) and lift with with just your back muscles, trying not to use your arms as much as is feasible.

I find a weight free barbell near McBeal, pick it up saying, "Stand back ladies and watch the magic!" bringing both giggles and guffaws from every female in the gym and try this new exercise. I query TIM on form and what-not and think I know how to do it in the future.

TIM is asking about the latest gym "Employee of the Month" posting over on some bulletin board. I had done one about three months after I started coming to the gym. They're stories of how you ended up at the gym in the first place, a bit biographical and what keeps you coming in kind of thing. We're thinking this one has been up awhile. I ask ponyTail when she's writing hers. She visibly pales, shaking her head nope, no way. Being Mr. Helpful I offer to write it for her. I'm already certain it will be total fiction since I hardly know her at all when it comes to the background story. It could be fun and the title The Legend of ponyTail starts to form in my head.

ponyTail chuckles not sure if I'm serious or not. I wonder if I am? I cheshire smile at her before heading to the showers.

Have a great weekend!