I’ve joined a gym for the first time in my life.
My new physical therapist (PT #2 for those who are keeping count) is convinced she can help me with my sacroiliac joint pain through exercise, so I’m going to “the Y” every night to do low-impact aerobics in the pool and to walk on their treadmills.
There’s something you’ve got to know about me. Even when I was a kid in school, I never had a physical education class where I spent time in a locker room. I had all of my PE credits for graduation by the time I’d left the ninth grade, and my junior high didn’t even have a gym, much less a locker room. In college, my PE classes were bowling and table tennis. No need to shower and change after either of those. So here I am, pushing forty and getting a crash course in communal showers.
I think I could have lived the rest of my life without seeing that.
Our YMCA seems to be the gym of choice for scrawny, lily-white old men — myself included. I’m doing my best to keep my eyes on the wall, the shower drain, the soap dispenser, etc. (basically, anywhere but the dangly bits doing the hokey-pokey across the room.) Yesterday, I showered, toweled dry, changed clothes, gathered my stuff and the whole time this one guy was going through the lather/rinse/repeat cycle. When I left, he was still furiously working at it. I’ve heard of Hollywood showers, but come on. Nobody’s got to be that clean, unless they’re being used to serve sushi.
Don’t get me wrong; I’ve got no problem with nudity. I just think there’s a time, a place, and a duration for it.
One old guy, who introduced himself as “Larry,” seems to be a member of the “Over 70 Exhibitionism Team.” He left the pool fifteen minutes before I did, and when I got to the showers, he was sitting on a bench, wearing nothing but his shower shoes. Granted, he was waiting for the local school swim team to quit gabbing and finish showering. I gave him the benefit of the doubt, until he finished his shower and then sat in the locker room for another fifteen minutes, completely nude, before deciding to get dressed.
Anyway, now I’m a member of the Y, and hoping I get some kind of results from all this exercise. So far, it’s only increased my overall pain. The PT says, “Whatever hurts, don’t do. If it feels good, do it.” I like that philosophy. However, when I tell her that I hurt more after exercise, she says to keep up the exercise.
I’m sure that makes sense in some alternate universe.
