Feebeeglee suggested dishcloths for a zombie project, and sure enough I do have a couple of balls of Sugar’n’Cream hanging around, and I also need a couple more dishcloths. What’s more, when I tracked down the cotton, I found with it a nearly complete skein of the yarn I used for my DNA scarf and beret — enough to make a matching pair of mittens. These zombie projects should see me through Erin perfectly.
Leonidas says that a non-chatting gym is calming, and he is right. When you are working out, you can focus entirely on physical sensations, and that is very calming. Even on the treadmill, where chatting can be fun, I like catching up on my magazine reading. Also, the person next to me at my gym is probably a 24-year-old guy with a cap and tattoos, and you know I am not going to strike up a conversation with him about his lats.
But while I don’t want to talk while working out, I find that I would like to talk about working out. Unfortunately, working out is One Of Those Topics. Most people are no more interested in discussing the difference between triceps kickbacks and bent-over lat rows than they are in discussing mattress stitch versus backstitch.
This is understandable. While everyone should be able to discuss ideas, current events, and the arts, talking about a particular hobby can be difficult if you do not take part in it. I once worked with a group of people whose conversations were generally limited to shopping and TV. These are the two most popular hobbies in the U.S., but I do not happen to share them. So there they would be, talking completely over my head. I remember one occasion in particular when the discussion began with “Did you watch the practice last night?” In my experience, a practice is either music or sports. I weighed the possibilities and asked “Soccer?” Apparently, “The Practice” is a TV show. They behaved as though I were from Mars.
But I digress.
I have found that the knitting blogs are a great place to talk about mattress stitch vs. backstitch, so I thought I would find a fitness blog. Just as the knitting blogs allow us to participate in a community of knitters without concern for geography, I reasoned, there must be fitness blogs that do the same thing. There must be people out there being deeply amusing about their adventures with elliptical trainers, swapping hints on free weight techniques, and sharing terrific vegetable recipes.
No, actually. So far, most of the supposed fitness blogs I have encountered have fallen into one of two categories. Some of them are not blogs at all, but ads disguised as blogs. Others are diet diaries, and last for about two weeks, which must also have been the length of the diet. This could well be an effect of my technical ineptitude, though. If you know better, point me in the right direction, please.
I tried a xanga search, and found one that mentioned fitness. It seemed to be written by a teen with little nutritional knowledge and an unfortunate self-image. Being a mom, I left her a bit of motherly advice. Then I visited her blogrings, thinking that I would find some gym rat with an interesting writing style. Nope. It turns out that I had stumbled onto the xanga anorexia webring. These are some very miserable little girls. So if you are able to enjoy the healthy body you were born with, be sure to take a moment of gratitude for that fact, on your way to the gym — or the ice cream parlor, for that matter.
And if you have thoughts on those tricep kickbacks, let me know. I’m interested.
You are right various topics have to be treated to keep interest .
In friendship
michel {v}
It is curious how what we assume is being talked about isn`t…
When the whole fitness craze started I was involved up to my neck. I was at the gym at least 4 days a week – 2 of the days were aerobics and two, circuit. There were women there, however, who were worse than me – every day they would do one aerobics class, one circuit and then would go for a run in the afternoon before going to a second aerobics class. All they talked about was fitness – aerobics, weights and diets and they were the most unpleasant women you have ever met. Having had a little psychology by that time I worked out that both they and I were addicted. (The latter being helped on by a father who let me know that he thought I had lost too much weight – this from a man who NEVER criticised his wife’s or childrens’ appearance) I also got withdrawal symptoms if I missed one session at the gym so I weaned myself off. I ended up going to the gym to do aerobics twice a week but stopped all weight work (weight work becomes a problem when youthful arthritis flares up) I finally left when the whole thing got too boring – took up dancing instead – which of course I still do after 16 years. I saw some of the women I remember from the gym years after – they would have been in their early 50s and they looked awful – thin and stringy and old. It is unhealthy for any female to let her percentage of body fat drop below 12%. These women used to brag about having fat percent of 7 or 8%. Be really careful with your fitness regime. All that is really required to remain healthily fit for a non-athlete is half an hour of vigorous walking a day and eating a balanced diet.
I spent the morning in my first sock class, knitting on the rpund with foru double points. I am thinking that circulars would be much easier…I just deserately want to have a bunch of chunky socks to go under my long skirts. I just don’t know if I will ever be talented enough, LOL. Perhaps I should support the women in Appalechia that knit for a living….
ryc: They creep me out a little as well. I find however, that when I have met the same syndrome in older women (and there are quite a few of them although they would not admit it) it disturbs me even more. Some of the women I mentioned that I saw at the gym were like that. I sort of expect young women to lack the ability to withstand media images and peer pressure but I’m afraid I have very little patience for mature women who seem to lack that ability. In mature women it usually is not quite so serious but yoyo dieting and periods of excessive exercise fouls up their metabolism just as surely even if it takes years rather than months as is the case in young women. I’ve done my share of both but was at least smart enough to stop before it became a way of life – I stopped by about 27 although I admit that sometimes I’m tempted to try it again, a temptation that so far I have withstood (no father now to warn me that I might be going overboard). Also, at nearly 45 hollow cheeks and stick arms and legs would just make me look very old haggish rather than a waifish urchin š