I Am a Sweaty Dork

So I was back into the dungeon today, down into the bowels of the gym I used to hate going to. It was really cold and windy and I was a big ole wimp when I looked outside. Despite the sun, I didn’t want to be all goosepimply while I went fora quick stretch run. So I bagged up my crap and off I went.

Oh, sorry… I must fufill my obligatory talk Like a Pirate Day line…. *ahem*…

Hear Ye, hear ye, landlubbers! This be the day I set forth and descended into the bilge to cavort with danger amongst the torturous devices of men. I did indeed return victorious, although… The rum be gone. Arrrrr….

Ok now that I have that out of my system… Here we go.

I signed back up to the gym yesterday, going to a location near my house I had never been to before. This location was awesome! I loved the size, the equipment, the layout… it was a lovely workout and I did a mile (seriously, we are in CANADA folks, get some @#$* treadmills that have kilometres on ’em. ) in fifteen minutes, and it felt great! I was slow, but I was not winded, was not sore, was not heaving.

I was however, extremely sweaty. I had forgotten how warm gyms are. Like hot yoga warm. It was drippin’ down between the girls, down my back, running in channels down my face… My liquid awesome cup runneth over! My Handana was soaked through, not a dry patch on it. My shirt was completely soaked on the collar. Either I was detoxing hard, or I was simply not used to the inside temperature. I always sweat like this at the gym though, so I assume it is just acclimatization. I always feel slightly embarrassed when I look around and no one else is dripping off the end of their nose, or looks like they just showered in their clothes.

Oi… A cool cucumber I am not. Arriba, hot tamale comein’ through! Rawr…

So today, I stood in the change room of the gym location I really don’t like going to and sighed. It has not changed. Threadbare carpet, broken lockers, showers that spit at you, and the whole place smelled like feet. *sigh* I changed and did a half mile, then tried out a new elliptical machine I’d never seen before, for a few minutes to stretch out my legs. I had not wanted to try it last night after my quickie run, but it looked intriguing, with a motion more like running than hopping or stairclimbing, like other ellipticals.

As usual, I am too short for the damned machine, and provided comic relief to other gym-goers when I attempted to use the forehead bonking sticksarm handles. This involves me hitting my head with the end of the handles if I lean over, and if I stand upright, my shoulder goes out of joint when the handle swings forward with a lovely cracking noise. Holding onto the handle means I lean forward, so this is what happens… *bonk-crack-ow, bonk-crack-ow, bonk-crack-ow*

I am a midget. These machines are not built with me in mind.

So I hung on to the “Oh @#$*” handles in the middle and slowly pedalled for five minutes, dripping sweat on everything in sight, my legs six feet apart on the foot holder thingies, bobbing along. The impossibly thin girl beside me on lap 1,243 of her workout was reading People, chewing gum, texting, and looking bored. The forehead bonking sticksarm handles came to her navel.

I felt ridiculous, but at least I was givin’ er! I was also not sure if I was going to be able to walk when I got off. I wobbled over to the tiny stretching area, did some calf stretches (can you say AHHHHHHHHHhhhhhhh…..), some plank, and called it a day.

But not before tripping on a medicine ball, and nearly squishing impossibly thin girl. She looked at me funny and rubbed her forehead slowly with her lovely pink french manicured fingers.

*sigh* I am officially a sweaty, elliptically-challenged dork with a bruised forehead. 😀

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