5k:19:17 @ Dublin Shamrock 5k 2011
10k: 41:01 @ Scheel's Turkey Trot 2010
Half:1:30:07 @ Oakland Half 2012
Full: 3:12:57 @ CIM Marathon 2013
70.3: 5:20:07 @ Vineman 2012
140.6: 12:14:21 @ IM Coeur d'Alene 2013
Tag Archives: gym
It has come to my attention that the gym locker room exists in a universe of its own.
The "rules” and social norms that exists outside of the tiled walls do not apply in said space. Instead the locker room defies common sense, courtesy, and civil expectations, for a culture of shocking practices.
I have invested a large amount of time in the locker room, not out of choice but rather out of obligation, and in doing so, I have noticed a common thread: weirdness.
While what is considered “weird” by one person many be considered completely normal to another, I firmly believe that we can all see the “weirdness” in the following observations. Humor me, if you will:
- The application of three-foot hair extensions over a two hour period. Neither the place, nor time.
- Not wiping up the remnants of said hair extensions as they are completely covering the counter top. I’ve always wanted to gave long black hairs clinging to all of my stuff. Thank you.
- Bending over, in your party suit, with you rump perfectly in front of someone’s face as you bend down. Not necessary.
- As one woman is sitting at the counter applying her make-up, another naked woman comes up behind her to access the hair dryer. Because the hair dryer cannot be moved, the nude woman proceeds to spend five solid minutes drying her hair, standing right next to the other woman, with no concern of her naked state. Use a towel. They’re free.
- The news is on in the locker room for a reason. Just because you are spending thirty minutes getting ready and have a different choice of what you would like to listen to does not mean you should play music out loud from your crappy smartphone so everyone can enjoy your musical preference. I’ve heard more Adele than I can handle.
- The gym is a place to get ready in the morning. However, it is not the place to spread your entire make-up collection, your personal magnifying mirror, all of your products, and all of your appliances at one time, then proceed to spend an hour and a half perfecting your glamorous state. It’s only Tuesday.
- The gym is smart enough to provide a “lounging” area outside of the locker room. This area has big couches, a TV and tables. If one must conduct conference calls or do two hours of work (yes, you were there when I arrived and as I left), please do you business outside of the locker room. Not only is it better for us, but more sanitary for your keyboard!
- If you find something in the shower, it would behoove you to turn it into the lost and found. My bathing suit, goggles and swim cap that I left last week would be a perfect example. I really can’t fathom the benefits of keeping someone else’s bathing suit. Sicko.
Albeit, my observations have been of the female species, I’m willing to bet that such oddities have been experienced in a men’s locker room as well.
Tell me, what are some of the weird observations that you’ve captured in the locker room?
P.S. There are no photos in this post because that would be, well, weird.
It’s not pretty.
But then again, I don’t make any time to give a damn because of course, time is of the essence.
Wet and reeking of chemicals, I heave myself out. Some days it’s clear and welcoming, other days the thick murkiness makes me question why I insisted on deeming it still healthy. In this case, I blame my naivety and pretend that water-laden diseases will just make you stronger. It’s time for battle, white blood cells.
Squeak. Squeak. Squeeeeak. Squeak.
Apparently one-dollar Old Navy flip flops require WD-90 on the tile floors. I try to step lighter, place my weight differently or maybe just walk faster to avoid the unusually piercing soundtrack to my pace. Forget it. Nothing helps. Play your sweet song cheap things.
Squeak. Squeak. Squeeeeak. Squeak. Oh crap. What was that reflection?
You didn’t see it?!
It was horrid!
It was this soggy, tangled thing. Its hair was slicked back, yet still mangled its face. Then it had these deep, crimson rings around both of its eyes and its face was peppered with red bumps and bruises. It was a frightful sight that you are probably better off never seeing. I can’t look anymore, I had to move on.
By this time, I’m questioning what designer deemed these free towels worthy of any sort of drying and wicking. Barely large enough to wrap around me, but short enough to ensure that my booty is always, ever so slightly, hanging out. Carefully preventing a free-for-all peep show while still disregarding all modesty, I rip the spandex-like suit off and prep for my next outfit change which is actually more difficult than it appears.
Wet body and dry clothing don’t make for a seamless transition. It’s a balancing act to stay appropriately covered yet shove limbs into clothing that seems to be stuck in its place. HEAVE-HO-HEAVE-HO. Where are my costume changing people? Cher has people. Britney has people. I need people!
What feels like an embarrassing and awkward half an hour is probably only 29 minutes, or three minutes…to-may-toe/to-ma-toe. I lace up my feet and pull back my hair into a svelte pony. Don’t worry, I’ll share the how-to so you can pin it on Pinterest. And like that, I am ready for round two.
But on the way out, I catch another glimpse…
Why won’t that freaking monster leave me alone?