Musings from the Gym

I used to run marathons. Then Herm came along and ruined my fun.

My neurosurgeon thinks that Herm has been growing for 7-10 years, so he actually kept me company for most of my running life, but he got a little too big for his britches two years ago and started messing with my back. The onset of back pain was the offset of running … when the pain of foot-hitting-ground impact became too much, I had to stop.

But, I didn’t know what else to do.  I had been one of those skinny kids.  You know those teenagers and 20-somethings that eat everything but never gain weight.  Then I hit my 30s … hello metabolism slowdown.  So I started to run, and once again I could eat whatever I wanted.  The only problem with that approach, is when you stop running, you don’t stop eating.  I’m blaming Herm for the change in my physique … with marathon training you can eat whatever you want, sitting on the couch, no so much!

After a year of slothful moping, muscle atrophy and 10 lbs of icky flab, I got off my butt and found a gym.  You know, one of those places where all the buff guys hang out and grunt, and the ladies are rock hard, and everyone is super-snobby. They’re not like that now.  Apparently gyms have changed as exercise goes mainstream.  Gyms are now full of people just like me, and I’ve learned to enjoy weights and spin classes.

Gyms are an interesting place.  If you go at the same time every day, you’ll see the same people, who use the same lockers, and do the same workouts. You make up nicknames for them because you don’t really get to know them.  It’s kinda like being back in primary school. 

In my gym, there’s “buff boy” … the guy who works out six days a week, and takes his workouts veeeeery seriously.  There’s “Luggage lady” who trudges into the gym every morning with all her gear and toiletries in a wheely suitcase (same size that I took on vacation for a week). There’s the two guys trying to impress each other (then probably going to Craiglist to see if they’re mentioned in Missed Connections).  There’s the obese lady that I admire … the courage to come in every day and be the largest person in the gym, the dedication to make life changes, and it looks like she’s losing weight. There’s the personal trainers who slog every day through the boredom of clients who want it to be easy.

I wonder what they think of me. When I walk on the treadmill, they have no idea that just a short time ago I could do ½ mile repeats at an impressive speed (okay, my really, really serious runner friends will be laughing at that, but for us every day folk with a desk job, speedwork is impressive).  When I’m flopped on a mat stretching out my back and hips, they have no idea the burning feeling in my legs or the pain searing down my back. Pain is invisible, and for now I have no scars to prove it.

One thing I’ve learned from this is everyone has a story.  We just don’t know what it is