Mountain Goat Gym Rat

In in an attempt to get into mountain-goat shape for the big hike to Machu Picchu, Todd and I have joined a gym. Being in a small suburban town means that we had few choices, so Gold's Gym it was. Unlike Suzimusi, who found the Gold's in her neck of the woods to be rather unfortunate, Todd and I have been pretty happy. One thing that I've enjoyed is the fact that it's not such a meatmarket as the 24-Hour Fitness in Oakland I used to go to. Walking into that place was crazy. You could just feel the eyes on you; everyone was watching everyone else, even at a ridiculous hour of the morning. And I'm not even hot, especially in my baggy t-shirt and scowl. Sometimes, I felt like making an announcement: "You know what, people? When the sun it not up yet, do not hit on me or even try to make conversation. I am not your friend. And no, I will not meet you in the steam room." Of course, making this announcement would have required talking to people, and why would I do that? It's much healthier to just fume in silence.

I also really enjoy the idea of the gym. I'm finding it easier to get out of bed in the morning knowing that I'm getting up to go to a well-lit, warm room to run on a treadmill instead of the cold darkness outside. When it was warmer out, I could handle the darkness of the early morning. I felt hardcore and like I was a member of some kind of secret club of slightly crazy yet respectable people. Then it got cold and I realized that I'm not really hardcore. I'm medium-core at best, and dark+cold+6 AM = get on the treadmill.

Perhaps the best part of the gym, though, is the people-watching. I realize that I missed it during my gym hiatus. You can always count on there being somebody doing something entertaining, like the guy who practically does jazz hands as he walks on the treadmill, looking as though he might break into song at any moment. I love that. Or the aerobics instructor who shows up in caked-on makeup, and who I think may have been smoking in the parking lot. Don't take classes from her! One strange thing I've noticed however, is how nearly everybody there is white. I suppose this is one of the hazards of suburbia or of not living in a place like Oakland anymore. I would consider this a downside of the gym, but I really realize that it's a downside of the whole town. That's sad.