They said no jewelry in the sauna and I looked down at my wedding ring. I hadn’t been in a sauna since before I was engaged… I’d never worn a ring in there before. I had a brief, terrible thought of the ring getting too warm and burning me, but then had an equally horrific mental image of my finger swelling with the heat and puffing out over the ring, hiding it completely.
I shook my hand to ward off the picture, twisted my ring to test the theory, gave up, and stepped in.
I tugged the too small towel over my hips, trying to hide my stretch marks, spare tire, and c-section scar in vain. Women around me all studiously avoided looking at one another, and I realized no one would really care, so I just let it fall. I discovered, after I exposed my midsection for all to see, that I had forgotten to shave.
As I experienced the perfect Erma Bombeck moment, a wry internal twisting of my lips signalled the humour of the situation and I plunged, headfirst, back into the anxiety and endorphin-rich world of the gym.