scenes from a gym bunny.

so if you read my blog a few posts ago about my chronically-injured-left-leg, i mention how i'm not running as much as i'd like to be. i supplement a good amount of my fitness at the gym, and while i'm fortunate i get a sweet company discount via NB to a pretty nice one, i am officially a gym bunny.

gym bunny. the term makes me laugh. and that's why i use it. i grew up a swimmer starting at age 6, yet the pool makes me think of water-running during a horrendous injury either my frosh or sr. year of college track and xc. and the eliptical makes me think of those girls who wear those cotton soffee brand shorts that are WAY too small or valor shorts with "JUICY", written on the butt. (and in cursive of course). if any Juicy Cuture workout gear enthusiasts are reading, i'm really not trying to be rude.... but do us all a favor and buy 'em one size larger.... no offense. anyway, back to the meat of the matter.

one can get a fairly decent workout on the eliptical.... but when i watch episodes of The Girls Next Door with headphones on or find myself on the 80s music channel listening to Tiffany's "I think we're Alone now" while observing men doing abs only to get up and literally lift up their shirt to look at their abs in the mirror, i have to just laugh at myself. and the mirrors... oh the mirrors - i swear, the mirrors near the smaller weights (which girls would be using), make one look skinnier. The mirrors near the larger weights (where the guys would be using), make one look bigger. i am positive of this, completely and totally. and no i'm not stereotyping because in general (with exceptions) this is the gender breakdown and we know this.

unrelated but sort of related note: i once returned a wall mirror to target because the reflection was not accurate. and yes, that is exactly what i told the clerk behind the counter. he laughed so hard. i got my money back. everybody won.

being a gym bunny also exposes me to a new element in the locker room. Nudity.
having the privilege of running for a university with excellent facilities, we had individual showers as an option to the one huge community one. in general, female athletes didn't shower together. its no problem if you do, each to her own, but every single team at JMU used the individual showers except the girls volleyball team. we called them The Nudies. once a lacrosse girl walked in on me in my individual shower, (which to this day i do not understand as my dirty running clothes were on the bench and there are 2 separate curtains you have to pull). i think her name was johanna, she opened the curtain so hilariously aggressively while my arms were up shampooing and we just stared at each other. everytime i'd see her on campus i would think "that girl saw me totally naked." when you're 19 these things are funny.

so this element of Nudity hit me full frontal. (pun intended... or should i say, bun(s) intended). naked lady is walking around the locker room as i'm changing to workout. I hop on the ole eliptical, do my lifting and exercises for my stupid leg, promise myself i'll do my abs at home after dinner (didn't do them), and try not to expose my caboose as i foam roll with running shorts that aren't compliant with foam rolling....

i re-enter the locker room and naked lady is just walking around. great. perfect timing; we must've started and finished at the same time but with time for her to be naked again. at this point i'm judging. because she is barefoot (total lack of hygiene), and is seemingly doing loops around the locker areas looking for something. seriously? i shower. she must've showered, because there i am again with naked lady just waltzing around with a towel on... HER HEAD. naked lady then conveniently says excuse me, as her locker is directly below mine (of course, have you met me? i am claire and this is how my life works). she literally is lotion-ing up, brushing her mane of hair all the while i've quickly dressed and put my hair in a wet bun. i am then at the mirror putting on face lotion and THERE SHE IS. she sidles right on over, literally, aggressively pokes from around the corner WHILE putting on deodorant (and therefore has an arm up while being naked), and asks "is this Sting?"

she is referencing the music playing over the intercom in the locker room. i was not paying attention to this music. i am busy trying to avoid naked lady, but naked lady has found ME, to inquire of the artist that makes up the background scenery to my life in this moment. My dear friend Kay told me, "Claire, you are Liz Lemon and you live at 30 Rock".

me: i have no idea... i think so.
naked lady: i don't think it is, and i HATE when people sing other peoples songs!
me: oh... yeah i don't know sting too well.
naked lady: oh! i'm a huge fan of The Police, like enormous!
me: nods. smiles. exits conversation.

so here's the deal. she's probably a really nice person. she's comfortable with her body.
at the end of the day, this is nothing that should concern me. 
but for this gym bunny, i just didn't feel like it.
and i got a nice laugh. and a blog from it. that maybe you will read.

with love from manual level 9 and a low incline,
cw