Day two of my workout at the Y, and I like it. I went this morning around 8:00 with a plan. A friend of mine who is experienced with weight training suggested a circuit-style workout—instead of doing three sets of reps on each machine before moving to the next one, the idea is to do one set on each machine in a cycle and then repeat the cycle three times. Moving from one machine to the next with no break in between keep the heart rate up and the metabolism kicked into gear, so that was my intention.
The area with leg and hip machines was empty when I arrived, so I started there. While on my third machine, the leg curls, two old women parked themselves on the hip machines and had tea, basically. They might as well have for all the chit-chatting they did and as little muscle movement as they did. I noticed they piled on the weights, but they couldn't have moved their scrawny legs more than a few times with each set. Blab blab blab.
I moved to another area and started the upper body circuit—arms, chest, back, abs—the circuit plan it just doesn't seem to work because they don't let you claim all the machines for yourself. If it weren't for those other people, I could have done the circuit training in the time suggested, 30 minutes. But as it was, I finished after 45 minutes or so and had to give up on the plan all together.
Here's what I found myself thinking while working on the lat bar: I thought about being catty and asking the ladies how long they thought they might be at the hip station while I tapped my foot and looked down at my watch. I don't wear a watch because the battery died a year ago, but it would be a nice touch in making my point about hogging machines in a public gym. Then I thought about loudly asking the attendant if there was a policy about being considerate with the equipment and not lolligagging.
But then I thought about Lauralie Gilmore. Really, I thought about life in Stars Hollow and how people just accept the quirks of their neighbors. If Miss Patty were relaxing on the bicep machine with a cigarette, you wouldn't scowl at her and ask her to move her fat ass, would you? No, you'd strike up a conversation and accommodate her because she's interesting and always has a story to tell. So what if it takes you a few extra minutes to finish your workout, and so what if you have to do all three sets of reps at once.
Ladies' tea on the hip abduction apparatus it is, then. On Friday, I'll walk in with no plan at all and just go with the flow.
The area with leg and hip machines was empty when I arrived, so I started there. While on my third machine, the leg curls, two old women parked themselves on the hip machines and had tea, basically. They might as well have for all the chit-chatting they did and as little muscle movement as they did. I noticed they piled on the weights, but they couldn't have moved their scrawny legs more than a few times with each set. Blab blab blab.
I moved to another area and started the upper body circuit—arms, chest, back, abs—the circuit plan it just doesn't seem to work because they don't let you claim all the machines for yourself. If it weren't for those other people, I could have done the circuit training in the time suggested, 30 minutes. But as it was, I finished after 45 minutes or so and had to give up on the plan all together.
Here's what I found myself thinking while working on the lat bar: I thought about being catty and asking the ladies how long they thought they might be at the hip station while I tapped my foot and looked down at my watch. I don't wear a watch because the battery died a year ago, but it would be a nice touch in making my point about hogging machines in a public gym. Then I thought about loudly asking the attendant if there was a policy about being considerate with the equipment and not lolligagging.
But then I thought about Lauralie Gilmore. Really, I thought about life in Stars Hollow and how people just accept the quirks of their neighbors. If Miss Patty were relaxing on the bicep machine with a cigarette, you wouldn't scowl at her and ask her to move her fat ass, would you? No, you'd strike up a conversation and accommodate her because she's interesting and always has a story to tell. So what if it takes you a few extra minutes to finish your workout, and so what if you have to do all three sets of reps at once.
Ladies' tea on the hip abduction apparatus it is, then. On Friday, I'll walk in with no plan at all and just go with the flow.
Comments
You sound quite feisty Robyn. You go girl!...as they...er...say.
The Y is an interesting place where you do run into all sorts of personalities. We have a bunch of older men who like to hang out nude on the couch in the mens locker room while watching sports on the TV. I find this a bit odd but it looks like they've been doing it for years long before I started coming around.
Though I'm glad your chatterboxes don't behave like Rich's old men.
Eww!
What Rich said reminds me of what hubby always says about the old naked men in the locker room....shaving....at the sink...you get the picture. ew.