Junior year of high school, my lab partner told me he met my dad the night before at the gym. I was mortified. Like any high school student, I was not keen on my school world mixing unsupervised with my family world. Evidently Jason (the lab partner) had put too much weight on a barbell and my dad helped him lower the weight without crushing himself. They got to talking and made the connection that I was my dad’s daughter.
I learned my dad is “that guy” at the gym: Mister Chatty. He sparks a conversation with everyone, and while he does workout, the gym is a social experience.
This got me thinking about the personas you see at the gym. There are some classic ones that I’ve noticed over the years:
It’s official. I logged in to the New York Road Runners site and I’ve qualified for the 2015 New York City Marathon. Legit.
I am more antsy than before to heal my ankle. I want to run. At the orthopedic’s direction, I scheduled a MRI for next week. Hopefully it shows something easily fixable (and forever preventable!).
It’s time for me to stop exacerbating the issue by spinning, running and walking everywhere. I am going to seriously try to lay off it, even if that completely cramps my style.
I looked high and low for a class that didn’t involve using your legs. It was not easy. Today I took Physique 57’s Fab Arms and Abs class which fit the bill. Is there anything else like that out there?
Does anyone else have tips for working out with an ankle injury? How can I stay active and in shape without aggravating it? Any tricks to make it heal faster?
Running the NYC Marathon (or any marathon) was never on my radar.
Even as I got more excited about running and racing, the half marathon distance still felt (and feels) like a big enough goal.
So my obsession with the NYC marathon stems not from my own personal goal of crushing it, but because I love the place NYC turns into when the marathon comes to town. I love reading marathon training blogs. And I love watching the marathon and cheering on the runners.
Storm King is a sculpture garden integrated in a hilly green forest. It’s a really pretty place to go and a great alternative (or supplement) to the traditional “let’s appreciate fall by going apple picking” idea.
The colloquialism “it’s just like riding a bike” has always lacked personal recognition for me, for all the reasons. To me, it might as well be “it’s just like reaching Everest Base Camp,” something to file under “people do it, but so far not me.” (I would like to summit Everest Base Camp.) But after a few weeks off from bike riding, I did find a sense of familiarity back in the saddle.
Last Sunday I found myself risking windburn and pneumonia (caused by severe hypochondria, as it was 50 degrees) on Randall’s Island to take a second level learn-to-bike class with Bike New York. You might remember my first class where I triumphantly “earned my pedals” by gliding in a circle in a Roosevelt Island gym.