The Lunk Alarm.
Apparently some people take offense to it. I thought it was funny because it’s true. There are all kinds of people at the gym. However just like anything else this doesn’t happen in all gyms, but it does happen.
I remembered The Lunk Alarm this weekend as I was hanging out with friends and we were all talking about weight loss, eating habits, and the constant body changes after having kids, and the changes currently happening as we are all reaching 40. They all talked about what they could and couldn’t eat, self-restraint, gluten allergies, and portions. We all talked about trying to keep ourselves healthy and the work it took to maintain healthy lifestyles.
Apparently I’m not the only one who feels that it gets a little harder as you get older.
Tired becomes a factor. Tired from work. Tired from school. Tired from kids. Tired from marriage. Tired from a busy life. Tired becomes a problem sometimes.
And as it became my turn to chit-chat about my outlook on the matter, I admitted, tired is a factor Most definitely. I admitted parts of my body have changed, maybe not the same ones as everyone else but nevertheless stretch marks and fat cells are part of my I had-two-kids life.
And food? I’m in love with it. I admitted to the Claim Jumper size portions. I admitted my love for pasta and that I ate it at least four times a week. My adoration for chocolate. I was a food lover who had seconds, and thirds. But I did admit that because I had a deep Food Network type of amor for food, I did have to get off my ass and workout.
It just made sense.
I had to.
If I ate whatever I wanted, I needed to make sure that I got some exercise in the process. But what I failed to mention was that I hate going to gyms. All these sweaty people in one place, crowded workout areas and the Lunks walking around staring at themselves in the mirror and then staring at themselves again naked in the locker room. Yeah that’s really not for me.
It’s all good that you’re beefed up or that you’re “hot” … dude fantastic. You’re great eye candy, and a nice distraction for me and everyone else I imagine. High-five to you, but sometimes you’re a little too free with your body around me.
I’m all about freedom, but I love my personal space. It’s mine, but sometimes staying out of my one-foot radius while you’re naked becomes a little too difficult for you while you’re blow drying your hair, brushing your teeth, applying make-up or sitting down. All while you’re naked you do this. I’m clothed. I’ve got a towel. I’ve got bra and panties. I’m good, but skin on skin contact is not allowed, not even feet or elbows. Not even accidentally.
So because I value the non-naked personal space radius, I don’t go to gyms. They’re just not for me. And I know not all gyms are like this. I know, but I happen to prefer The Great Outdoors anyway.
I like to do things that don’t make me feel like it’s an actual workout. Sports. Swimming. Biking. Hiking. Dancing. Boxing. Martial arts. Any outdoor recreation is good. Triathlons are good. Races are good. I’m not reminding myself that I’m working out, because I’m actually having fun.
I’ve never found that working on a Stairmaster is fun for me, even if I have the best playlist on my iPod, it’s just something I don’t look forward to … it feels like a chore. The Great Outdoors … that doesn’t feel like a chore at all. The Great Outdoors makes it possible for me to stuff my face … to eat carbs. It makes the non-workout, workout possible. Plus it has less naked people bumping into you. The Great Outdoors … my ticket to fighting fat cells and stretch marks that are trying to kidnap my 40 year-old body.