The stuff that inspires me to act is so freakin strange...I mentioned the other day that I'd grabbed my old gym journals from Ma's place and I was going to do a post on them once I'd finished reading them... I finished them, and was thinking about the post... and went looking for a suitable picture to add to it (okay, I'm not sure Barbie's Workout Center was the RIGHT picture... but I thought it was funny)...
Which then lead me to looking at the websites for two Adelaide gyms... the (secretly) gay one (check the gay Telly Tubby on the contact page), and the one near my house... neither of which have the same number of classes that my original gym had many years ago... but I don't think I could ever go back there... too many ghosts...
Anyway... while looking at the site for the gym near my house I really started to want to do something about going... which I can't do without working full time... which I can't do without getting off my butt and contacting all the agencies, since my agency isn't getting me diddlysquat at the moment (and what I am getting is because I'm fabulous and have working in the same building for about four years and people know me)...
Which led me emailing my resume to seven recruitment companies not two minutes ago...
Which in turn has kind of left me a little shellshocked...
*blink* *blink*
I'm so weird sometimes...
Anyway... this is supposed to be a post about my gym journals... and I'm not going to let a little thing like ongoing mental trauma stop me *grin*...
Oh, before I begin... On a related note, Ma and I went shopping on Friday and it's actually the first time since I started this whole walking/health kick that I have eaten anything after 8:30pm... completely due to the fact we didn't finish shopping, etc until about 8:15pm... and to make matters worse, we had pizza... it was my suggestion though... it actually felt very wicked... I ended up just shifting the cut off time (and the time I would go to bed) back by half an hour to compensate...
Anyway...
The journals start on 16 August 1994 (yep, 11 years ago, when I was a springchicken of 20, still living at home... and technically a virgin to boot)... but the story actually starts a little before that.
The first job I had was at a business college that I'd done an office skills course at, and the woman running the college was so impressed with myself, another girl from my class and a girl from another class, she gave us all jobs. The girl from the other class, Kirsty, started going to the gym just after we all started working there, and she went from rather chunky to quite sleek and fab in a short space of time (she did it partially by not eating, which is never the answer). Never one to be outdone, her transformation was enough to spur me to check out the gym across the street from where we worked and take a tour one lunchtime.
See... the weirdest things inspire me to act...
During the portion of the tour when we went through the men's changeroom there was this very hot, shaven-headed and tattooed guy walking from the shower area to the lockers, stark naked. Suffice to say, this was enough to make me go "This would be the gym for me!" and I decided to join up on the spot. Well, actually I went in to do a complimentary session on 16 August... but I was pretty much committed on the strength of hot naked guy.
I'm so shallow sometimes... *grin*
Anyway... for reasons that are now lost in the mists of time, I thought it would be a plan to keep a journal of my adventures... and those journals and now this blog are one of only three attempts I have ever made to keep that kind of record of my thoughts and feelings (the other being a "journal" of parties that I went to when I was in Year 11).
My first gym journal was a half used Marvin the Martian spiral bound notebook, which by the time I was finished had become six spiral bound notebooks... at 200 pages each (well, except the first one), adding up to over 1000 pages of my ramblings (bit like this post is turning into really). And I'm sure there should be a seventh journal, since the last one actually ends right at the end of a notebook, but it might be that I just stopped keeping it when I finished the sixth one.
They would never win any awards for the quality or content of my writing, but they were an interesting read... a whole bunch of things that I had forgotten, events not connected to the actual workouts that happened in my life around the time too, that kind of thing. And references to people I'd forgotten about.
The entries end up being fairly formulaic after a while... what class, workout or cardio session I did, how it went, anybody that I knew who I happened to run into, then a discussion of any cute boys who happened to be around the gym at the time... and how naked or lack of same I saw them...
Some of the comments about the interesting and/or naked guys in the changerooms get to be sort of comical after a while... I was obviously obsessed with naked guys (not something that has really changed since) and made some really odd comments...
- "I saw what seemed to be my first uncut guy, and he was seriously hung, or seemed to be anyway (maybe it was just lots of hot water on his "dragon")"
- "I think I saw the cute guy from Friday, but as he was dressed, and I never really paid all that much attention to his face, I can't be completely sure"
- "The really narcissistic guy with the tattoos and the great, if short, body was in the changerooms again today, and once again he was admiring himself"
- "When I went into the changerooms I was greeted with something I wish I was greeted with every time I walked in, the back view of a rather attractive blonde, clad in nothing but a white g-string"
- "He was uncut and substantial and looked great wet"
In the later journals there's this whole obsession with some a guy called Cameron, who I described as "interesting and somewhat cute... a strawberry blonde guy with jaw length hair and purple shorts..." I go on and on about him for ages... at least six months or more on and off... the really weird thing is that I can't place him in my memory... there doesn't seem to be any mental picture to dredge up whatsoever. Other guys I didn't have the vaguest interest in I can kind of dredge up an image for... him... nothing.
So weird...
It's also odd the things you say about people when you have no idea they will become big and (supposedly) permanent fixtures in your life...
"I did, however, full-on-flirt with another woman there, who although she looked kind of strangely familiar, I'm sure I don't know."
Yeah, I know... flirting with women... *rolls eyes*... well, I had to practice on SOMEBODY... plus there was a guy in the classes who annoyed me and was friendly with her...
That "strangely familiar" woman became my best friend on the entire planet...
So weird...
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