The Gym

Deep in the pit of winter, it can be difficult to feel like life is sunny.  After all, winter sun hardly ever shines in Michigan, and the temperature is frequently below zero.  It's dark when I leave for work in the morning, and it's dark when I get home.  No wonder it's hard to get excited about mundane day-to-day life!

The way I usually deal with stress is by running.  With the roads covered in sheets of ice and the temperature cold enough to freeze the lining of my lungs, this hasn't been an option for a while.  Rex suggested that I come to his clinic to run because he has treadmills there.  I figured this was a good idea.  Treadmills aren't as fun as running outside, but at least I could burn off a little steam and not have to pay exorbitant gym fees to do so.

Well, because it's the middle of winter and I have no motivation, I got up late and forgot to pack my gym clothes when I went to school.  I texted Rex and asked him to grab my gym clothes and bring them to work with him so that I could meet him there after school.  He said okay.  What a great guy.

After school, I drove to Rex's clinic.  I walked in and stopped by the receptionist's desk.  She said that Rex was with a patient, but that she would let him know I was there.  I headed over to the waiting room and took a seat.

I've never waited in a waiting room to see my husband before.  It made me feel kind-of unimportant, like maybe I should have made an appointment with him first.  But all I needed was my gym clothes!  They were probably sitting under his desk in a back office somewhere!  I looked around the waiting room and wondered how long I would have to wait for Rex.  I eyed the assortment of magazines and decided against reading one.  After all, I was not any old patient.  I am a WIFE of one of the therapists.  Shouldn't that make me some sort of VIP?  Is there a VIP lounge somewhere with better magazines and possibly refreshments?  Soft Asian music played in the background, and the room smelled faintly of incense.  I think I was very close to finding my inner chi or aligning my chakras or whatever.  It was all quite zen.  I wonder what that has to do with physical therapy...maybe if you're calm you feel less pain?  Personally, if I was in a lot of pain, I'd be all, "SCREW THIS ZEN MUSIC!  I AM NOT CALM!  I AM ANGRY ABOUT ALL OF THIS STUPID PAIN AND THE FACT THAT I'M WAITING SO LONG TO SEE MY THERAPIST!"  Maybe it's a good thing I'm not a patient there.

After twenty-five minutes (!!!) of waiting in the waiting room to see my husband, I finally went back up to talk to the receptionist.  After all, I was supposed to meet a friend for dinner in less than an hour, so I wasn't going to have time to work out if I couldn't start soon.  I asked when Rex was expected to be finished with his patient.  I told her that I just needed my gym clothes, and she said, "Oh, that's all?  They're probably just in his office.  Why don't you go check under his desk?"  I said that I couldn't because I felt like that was tantamount to going into the stockroom at a retail store...customers aren't supposed to do that.  She laughed at me and said, "Come on, let's go."  She took me back to his office, and sure enough: I noticed my bright blue shorts sticking out of his backpack.  "That's it!" I said excitedly.  I grabbed the bag and turned to leave, but not before noticing that the following are the only items on Rex's desk:

1. A pink lamp
2. A trophy with a banana on it
3. A hedgehog Christmas ornament

What the....?!?!  I made a mental note to ask Rex about this later and also to get him a framed picture of us so I could make sure the sexy Pilates instructor knows Rex is married.  Maybe a wedding picture.  And also a picture of me with a fake baby belly.  Just so she knows our marriage is going great and that we are not open to her wiles (because all Pilates instructors are wily.  Everyone knows that).

With my gym bag in tow, I went to the bathroom to change.  That's where I discovered that Rex had grabbed my dirty gym clothes from the hamper (EWWWW), and he had not packed me a sports bra or a hair tie.  He's a guy, so I guess I understand the oversight, but....how on earth am I supposed to run without a sports bra or a hair tie!?  I took off my pearl necklace and tried to finagle it into a device that could hold my hair back.  If anyone asked, I was going to play it off like the new cool thing: "Oh, you've never heard of gym pearls?  They're the newest craze in gym wear.  Their tagline is 'Because sweating is no excuse to look unsophisticated.'"  Unfortunately, the idea didn't really pan out.  I dug through my purse and found a rubber band tucked into a bottom corner - SCORE!  That would work.

I went out to go use the treadmills, and guess what?  They were full.  So even after all of the hassle, I still couldn't run.  I stood frozen for a minute, unsure what to do.  Ryan (a therapist I've met once or twice) came out and said, "Hey Christine, what's up?  Do you want some music on while you work out?"  I think what he really meant to say was, "Why are you standing there like a loser?"  I assured him that I was fine and that I was just about to get started on "this machine over here."  Because obviously I didn't know the name of the machine.  Because obviously they all looked like space contraptions that I didn't know how to use.

I walked up to the least intimidating machine and studied its intricate web of levers and pulleys.  Rex had showed me this one once before - I knew it was for arms.  I grabbed a handle and started pulling.  Cool!  I could do this!  I could pull the handle!  Look at me getting ripped!  After a few pulls on the handle, I decided to switch the setting.  I pulled the pin thing and tried to change the location of the pulley, but suddenly all the strings started hanging out weird and the handle fell to the ground.  "Ahhhhhh!"  I thought.  "I broke Rex's workplace!"  I immediately looked around to see if anyone had noticed me.  No one had.  Phewf.  I spotted the Pilates mats over in the corner and decided to just do some push ups and sit ups on those.  I couldn't screw that up.  I just had to hope Ms. Barbie Doll Pilates Chick wouldn't need them for a class and order me off of her mats.  Then I really wouldn't know what to do.

Luckily, I was allowed to use the mats.  I did a few push ups and sit ups, and then I decided to take a quick sixty second break.  Breaks are GOOD, you know?  You have to give your muscles a rest for a second!  You can't just move continuously for an hour!  Okay, I mean, you can, but....I didn't.  I took a QUICK, FLEETING, MILLISECOND break.  Of course Ryan picked that exact moment to come back into the gym.  He gave me a weird look, and I understand why.  The first time he walked in, I was standing and looking bewilderedly around the gym. The second time, I was lying on the Pilates mat like a kindergartner at nap time.  He probably thinks I am a total nut.  I wanted to exclaim, "I'm not crazy!  I just wanted to run on the treadmill!  It wasn't supposed to be this complicated!"

When Rex FINALLY came to see how I was doing, I told him that I couldn't use any of the machines because I didn't know how they worked, and also I was pretty sure I broke one.  He laughed and said that I didn't break the broken one, that he had made that mistake before too (Phew!).  He asked what I wanted to work on, and I said legs.  He showed me this machine that was literally a baby bouncer seat.  You're basically doing squats on a diagonal plane - you bounce up and down for a while until you feel the burn.  He told me to do two sets of twenty-five reps.  Then he went back to his office to do whatever the heck he does at his pink-lamp-banana desk.

I did two sets of twenty-five reps, but I didn't know how to do any of the other machines.  So in order to keep from looking like the gym foreigner that I am, I kept bouncing.  And bouncing.  And bouncing.

A hundred fifty reps later, my legs were like jello and I realized it was time to give up on the workout and go meet Sarah for dinner.

Maybe I'll just wait for spring in order to exercise again.