Check in Normal entries

Today was the fifth visit to the gym, always 48 hours apart, and the first visit I went by myself. There are some good reasons for that … wait, no, well, yes, but no … I just mean she had other things to do, but, even so, took a spill on the ice, which is going to make her other things harder, and, I hope she doesn’t feel inertia again. Projecting a bit, but I can get caught in inertia for … years. Am I depending too much on ellipses for purposes they were designed …? … And the horse you rode in on.
This coincided with discussion I was having with an old friend on facebook. He’s a real friend and old it’s just a thousand mile commute to talk live, and he used the term gym rat. I hadn’t heard or thought about that term since knee high leggings were in fashion. Today, alone at the gym, I couldn’t think of any other term. I went at an odd hour thinking it’d be mostly empty, and it was, except for the modern version of gym rats. I’ve been there five times and this one guy is always there.
My friend introduced herself and I to dude in a polite sort of ‘are we in your way’ kind of way. So he asked me how I was doing today by name and I answered fine and you calling him by name. We used manly voices, or, our voices resonated in the nearly empty gym. In that respect I felt fairly comfortable. The last time without ill intent or meaning to, he bordered on gossip, pointing out the guys we should ask questions of because they were bodybuilders. I don’t think he was misreading us, though he was, I just mean I don’t think that was his intent, nor do I think the subtext was ‘aren’t they hot?’ they weren’t. But it was obviously a direction like telling the new kids which monkey bars to play on, which is kind of flattering, because you don’t tell those things to passer bys. If I had to guess the intent I think some of the gym rats are free lance trainers and there’s some kind of protocol they have to follow to keep from getting kicked out.
There’s two reasons I don’t want to discuss what I’m doing at a gym. I mean I’m doing my own physical therapy and I think I’m to fucking young to talk about all my injuries and I don’t want physical therapy advice from gym rats, hell, I don’t want it from physical therapists. I really liked the people at mindful movement but shit four visits there cost what six months for both my friend and I at the gym. Mindful movement had something you can’t buy; extreme positive vibes. All but my first physical therapy and mindful movement, PT has worse vibes than this little gym.

I suppose if I felt self conscious about moving the weights from 100 to forty I’d feel obliged to explain my various injuries, but, honestly, I’m completely confident that I’m doing shit right. 3 sets of 10 to 15 reps of a lighter weight. The only people I’ve actually observed doing over a hundred do 3 reps and out. I’m sure they have their reasons, but I don’t feel like explaining myself or asking for an explanation. So far this gym is cool with that. For the most part people just do their own thing and are polite when engaged, but, you know. I don’t quite get the whole reading a magazine or texting on the treadmills or elliptical, but I don’t do those so I guess I don’t know how bored one can get. Again, I’m doing PT, concentrating on breathing and counting is about all the excitement I need.

I think I pushed a little harder today, wait, pushed is the wrong word, I think I was at it longer today because I wasn’t making sure my friend was doing ok. It’s not that she needs that, it’s just, I don’t know, how I roll. With the exception of sex I get more caught up in things I do alone because those things have all my focus. Ok, entry; check. Gym, check. Shutting the hell up … check.