I always said that the gym is the perfect place to be with people by yourself. You're surrounded by other people running their own lives and their own systems, but there's no pressure to speak or to be anybody but yourself. Unfortunately I have not found myself "alone" as of late.
Today when I went swimming I walked out of the locker room to the pool to hear whistling from an old man. I looked at him and he gave me the "okay" hand sign and smiled. Thanks, dirty old man. I took the compliment. Still, swimming up and back gave me the privacy I wanted, in the company of others. No one could tell I was crying because my eyes already matched my red swimsuit from the chlorine.
Tonight I went to LA Fitness's yoga class. As predicted, it was more athletic than last night's class. Lots of ab/core work. Still was a nice class. and still it smelled like a gym.
Afterwards I went to the parking lot for a phone session with my psychiatrist. As usual, I was crying. I tried to move off to the side of building without getting too far in the dark, but people coming in and out could see me upset. Many asked if I needed help, and one LA Fitness worker handed me some TP to dry my face. It was all very nice. My psych quoted: "If you love something, let it go. If it comes back, it's yours forever. If it doesn't, then it never was."
I finished the night of working out at the gym doing a sweaty 4.16 miles on the elliptical, all the while a boy with biceps the size of Montana talked me up. Appreciate it, Pete.
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