Fun (or not) at the Gym

At the gym, I am the middle-aged woman wearing the frumpy maternity clothes that (thank goodness) don't fit me anymore.

I have some real workout clothes, but those don't fit me anymore, either. (Different reason.)

But I do stay within my own space.

I will never put my foot up practically on your machine in order to stretch, or show you my gym shoes, or whatever it is that those people who do that are doing.

I will never snort out into the air every 26 seconds whatever bits of moisture have accumulated in my left nostril. (I was impressed with her--she was running 8 miles per hour. But I was glad I was on the machine to her right.)

I do not unpack a suitcase and two carry-ons onto one of the too-few treadmills at peak time and then go off to do who knows what for a half hour. By the way, I am glad we are finally done with the first couple of weeks in January when the parking lot and machines are filled by 5:00 a.m. with pretenders.

I will not assault your eyes by wearing a muscle shirt that would only fit me if I were eight feet tall. And I will not wear the same green muscle shirt that there can only be one of in the whole world every day in a row.

I will not lift weights too heavy for me, causing me to grunt, scream, or yelp, then throw the weights onto the ground. I do not want attention this much. In fact, at the gym, I don't want any attention at all. I cannot tell you how tempted I am to give the guys who do this some of the attention they crave. Only, my version would be to say, "You know, they make those weights adjustable so that you can lift only what you can handle."

I will not wear so little that I reveal ugly tattoos. Mostly because I don't have any. My flesh is failing to be beautiful fast enough on its own, thank you.

And I will not talk your ear off, whether or not you have an iPod.

I will not sing.

I am far too busy doing fractions in my head, figuring percentages, calculating how many calories I will be burning that day, and/or noticing each one of my children's birthdates and birth times go by on the clock. I may be weird in my own special way, but I will not bother you.

I will also not throw open the shower curtain on you when it is already closed. Somebody actually did that to me one time, and then I had to spend ten minutes apologizing to her, because, while asking her what she was doing, I said a bad word. Not a really bad word, just a mildly bad word, but still one I never say. Outside my head. Unless I'm discussing the afterlife.

The worst moment I had at the gym, though, I brought on myself.

At my gym, the showers are in the innermost recesses of a labyrinth, about a mile from the front (and only) door. One day, I must have been feeling pretty invincible after completing my 900 calories in record time or something, because after peeling off my sopping wet shirt, sports bra, socks, and pants, I grabbed my razor by the blades.

Far from invincible, I was spurting blood from the twin blade cuts on my fingers.

The bleeding was bad. Really bad. I held my fingers tightly with my other hand, hoping and praying that the bleeding would slow down and stop so I could shower and dress. There was to be no solution ahead of that, because I was a) completely naked and b) stinking like an aviary, and I could not just walk back out to the front desk to ask for a Band-Aid.

No, I had not brought my own Band-Aids. Good idea, though.

Which brings me to my list of the worst things to be without at the gym, assuming you came dressed for the gym and have to be dressed for work when leaving, like me. Just over a year ago, the gym around the corner from my house closed down. This was the first direct effect of the faltering economy on my life. My husband and I had had our own private economic crisis a couple of years before. We're such trend-setters.

So, I started going to a gym halfway between home and work, requiring me to pack up enough to get ready for work afterward. From personal experience, these are the fourteen worst things to forget to take to the gym:

14. Scrubbie. Not really a problem--just use your hands.

13. Razor. Just skip a day.

12. Band-Aid. See above.

11. Soap or shampoo. You can use the soap at the gym. When they have it. If you want to smell like a man, that is. If they don't supply any soap and you didn't bring any either, this moves to, oh, I'd say, number one.

10. Socks. No problem. Stop at Smith's on the way to work and buy some more. I bought a three-pack and stashed two of the pairs at work, so I'm all set now for the next two times.

9. Makeup. This would depend on how addicted you are to wearing it and how bad your complexion is that day. It might be a go-home-and-get-it thing.

8. Mousse and/or gel. I have never forgotten mousse or gel. Interesting, that.

7. Comb or brush. Not having a comb makes for a creative hairstyle, or part, at least. I can use my round brush for combing, but not for parting. If I forget my round brush, I can sort of use my comb to style my hair while drying it. Actually, not so much.

6. Blow dryer. My daughter and I used to share a blow dryer during the week, and there were times when she forgot to put it back in my gym bag after using it on a week night. When it broke down (probably from the stress), my husband and I both accidentally bought a new one, so now I have my own, and it stays in my gym bag. But when I did find myself without one, I turned up the nozzle on the hand dryer and dried my hair that way. It gave it kind of a funny Pippy Longstocking type of curl, but it got my hair dry.

5. Bra. No problem--except that you have to go home and get it and be late. No question there. Except for the day that, with the outfit I had on, I honestly couldn't tell as I scrutinized myself in the mirror while drying my hair. And I knew no client would see me that day. I would be holed up in my office by myself, anyway. Don't think too much about what I just said.

4. Shoes. You have to go back home for these. Unless you brought boots or some other substitute. Which I never have.

3. Shirt. I used my jacket to get out of the gym with. Then I wore my work sweater, zipped up, during the day. Fortunately, it looked okay with the skirt I had on. How did I forget my shirt? I had grabbed the shorts that go with that shirt instead of the shirt itself. So, I had shorts and a skirt, but no shirt. I considered wearing the shorts on my top part, but that consideration was short-lived.

2. Underwear is a go-home-and-get-it-and-be-late thing. Although someone at the gym told me she made her husband bring it to her at the gym. My husband and I don't have that kind of time.

1. Based on my experience, the number one worst thing to not have at the gym is: a towel. At my gym, there are no paper towels, so you can't even improvise. There's only one of those hand blower things, and it's down the hall and around the corner--approximately a block--from the showers. So there's no way I'm going to run down there and try to dry off in front of that. Maybe if I didn't have a seven-baby belly, I wouldn't be so modest, but, nah. Standing in the shower dripping wet, you have to do some really creative thinking when you find you have no towel if you ever want to get from there to dressed and walking past the dozens of people between you and the door. Twice, I used my coat because my workout clothes were soaked with sweat. Last time, I had only walked, so my pants were not soaked. I used them. But, believe me, toweling off with workout clothing is far from satisfactory, and I don't recommend it.