Gym Observances

I wish I had my camera at the gym this morning. But I guess if I took pictures at the gym on my phone, it would be in the locker room. Plonk!

But this is what was so hilarious. The gym I go to on some mornings, if I'm working out close to work, is the LA Fitness near Universal. There's an out door pool. So there I am, getting my push ups and pull ups on, on the second floor of the gym. Across the parking lot is the outdoor pool and I see a guy come out of the gate in a towel and nothing else. Then he gets into his Toyota SUV and drives off! Solomente in a towel! I laughed so hard I had to stop doing pull ups for risk of hurting myself. Either my sides from laughing so hard or I was afraid I'd let go of the pullup bar and fall off.

While we're on the subject of gym observances, nothing makes me laugh more than the guys who take themselves SO SERIOUSLY at the gym. They all into a few categories:

* The Meatheads - the Meatheads are all serious. The workout thing is their J-O-B. So they come with their tank tops that barely cover their nipples or they come in really baggy clothes that make them look like Biggest Loser contestants. And they don't care if you are in their space or not, they will lift a weight and almost knock you out if you are too close. They are not afraid to clip your ass, as someone almost did to me this morning.

* The Actors - The Actors are too pretty to look at you. OR they address you as "bro", "dude", or "boss." And oddly enough, some of these guys have skimpy tank tops on as well. And they really want me to see their nipples. They REALLY want me to see them and stare at them. It's really distracting. And sometimes they freeball...not that any of them are gay, but they're not afraid to make their goods available if some producer might be working out there who wants to cast them in something. And I've actually seen a very high level film and TV producer there, in a towel waiting for the showers chatting up some hot brown thing. And I'm not talking about THIS hot brown thing.

* The Turbo Ladies - there are ladies of a certain age who want to fight the signs of aging at all costs. So they are there with their ankle weights and their headbands and leotards sweatin' to the oldies. And by oldies, they mean themselves. God love those ladies. Good for them.

* The Turbo Men - the same as The Turbo Ladies, but men with dyed hair. Obviously dyed.

* The Kids - these are the young guys that I not so secretly lust after. They're in college and they're hot. Baggy basketball shorts. Hot little bodies, muscles. Piercing, innocent blue or green eyes and pert pecs and nips. Delish in a dish if I wish! They usually stay far away from me and my leering glances.

And this is the entertainment that sustains me as I'm pushing down and pulling up. My bod is sore from today's workout because I didn't really want to be there. I was tired and thought of giving up several times. But I didn't. I just kept at it, like a good boy. I don't know how male underwear models do it. It's a lot of work.

Only in My Dreams

So...you avid readers of this blog know that I've been feeling a bit nostalgic about the ex lately. It's that weird period post relationship where you start forgeting the bad things. I had coffee w/ a work associate yesterday who said that that's how the brain copes. It forgets the bad stuff.

Well, someone up there doesn't want me to forget the bad stuff because I had a dream last night:

The ex and I had gotten back together. He was in the shower, looking exactly the same as he had before. It was the morning and I was about to get some coffee. Before I had the chance to ask him what he wanted, I started getting yelled at:

"You never asked me what I wanted? You never ask me what I want."

And that was it. But it was enough. It reminded me that I never was made to feel like I was doing enough for him. If I did one nice thing, it was always asked why I didn't do three nice things. If I had put up with some of his nonsense, it was brushed off because we lived in a nice home and had a nice life. But like Carrie and Petrofsky, I was living HIS life. And while I had plenty of proverbial horse-drawn carriages in Central Park during those five years, it wasn't enough to make up for the fact that I wasn't me in that relationship. And one shower scene in a dream was enough to remind me of that. Because in those two sentences, hold everything that my life was about for a large part of that time.

And this morning, I ran across a mutual friend's comment on his status on Facebook. Even though we're not friends anymore on FB, it showed me the status that this friend was commenting on. And then it showed me their entire exchange in status updates. And just seeing his name again, repeatedly and reading a status that was literary in a showy way and long winded, was a definite reminder of the past.

But thank God I could have a dream to remind me of that. I don't have to get soft and revisit the past in real time. That would be a huge mistake. It seems obvious, but when the process of healing also allows you to forget the pain, it's not that out of the question.

Pasadena: The Land of the Silverfox

I've had two experiences lately. Casual experiences. No penetration involved. Is that vaguely clear enough?

Both involved men of a certain age. Silverfoxes, if you will. And they were hot. My type before my ex was always to date a bit older. And now older includes silverfoxes, the male cougar. Not retired. But I have to say that now the older gents are looking hot.

I was having non-penetrating simulated sex with me on top with this 48 year old the other day. And when I looked in the mirror that was opposite his bed, I kind of looked good.

A lot of guys date younger to feel younger. But that makes no sense. Older makes me feel a lot more young. Although, there have been a bunch of 20 year olds who have been wanting to hit this lately. I'm kind of at the perfect age, which I won't disclose here. I'm equally hot to both younger and older. And younger doesn't mean teenager and older doesn't mean with a walker. Both are respectable choices.

So the other silverfox is this incredibly hot guy. He's 43 with the most rockin' body I've seen in a while. He might dress a little young, but he's got a baby face and some striking blue eyes, which I have a definite weakness for. It was just a simple stroke hook up, but we ended up making out a lot. And there was some chemistry there. I think we were both shocked. And he was into my body, which is getting better, but is nothing like his. And he seemed to be pretty sincere.

Dare I say that the whole thing was rather sweet. He even sent me an email later saying that he had a great time, but that he was casually seeing someone. So if it goes anywhere, he wouldn't be able to see me. But until then...he's up for another go at it. And I responded by saying that I'm in no position to look for my next boyfriend, so let's just have fun. I guess that's what you get with certain 43 year olds: maturity. The exchange was all very respectful and very adult. And hot. I won't go into graphic details, but I'd describe the final moments of our encounter with one word: geyser.

Wow, universe. I guess there are sweet guys who've got pecs, abs and big dicks. They are out there. Out there in the 626.

Cleanse

My brother just finished this cleanse where he got leaner and started to see a six pack. As soon as he described it to me, I knew I had to do it. The pluses: no loss of energy, muscle mass or ability to work out. I'm letting go of a lot of things in my life, so why not let go of some extra pounds. I've been working out a lot and I want to see the fruits of my labor.

I decided to start this after my birthday and Valentines Day which are both coming up. I figured I'll need some drinks and some chocolates to get through both.

I've lived my life with a lot of "I'd nevers" and this is another one to break through. I never thought that I'd have a body that people would want to look at and admire. Yes, I'm in fine shape. But I didn't think I'd ever have an enviable body. And I'm not saying that I do now. But maybe once I'd like to see my body looking a certain way. I'm more about health and how I'm feeling inside. But I don't want to avoid having something because I don't think I can. I want to have anything I want and that's what this body thing is about. I'm working my ass off at the gym, so why not have it be the best it can possibly be. It's inspiring.

My father used to say as a kid (as I'm sure most Dads did) that there is no such word as "can't." And once I said, "I can't run a marathon." And I did. And more recently, "I can't leave my boyfriend of five years." And I've always thought that "I can't have a six pack." "I can't look that good." I've accepted certain things about myself as truths and not understood that I can change anything in my life.

So is it frivolous? Maybe a little bit. But for me, anything superficial has a deeper meaning. This is what I want: I want a hot chest, great legs and rockin' arms to match the beauty that's already inside of me. I want to feel confident. Confident to share all of myself with other people. And how I feel on the outside affects how I feel inside. It directly affects my ability to feel worthy and okay enough to share the great things about myself. I don't want to hold back any more.

Okay, I did say that I was getting less sappy in this blog. So I will close by saying that I want to safely have more bone in my life. In my life, up my ass and in each hand.

Why the hell not? Life's too short. I want to be ALL OF ME, not just the parts that people find it easy to stomach.

And this cleanse is the next step. I want to cleanse myself of all the negativity. All of the ways that I stop myself. All of my blockages. I want to make room more healthier choices and ways of being. If my birthday and the upcoming valentine's day holiday plays some part in making those changes happen, then so be it. It sure beats being alone and miserable cause I don't have a man in my life.

Will is a Powerful Thing

Last week was a bit of a lonely week. I need to remind myself to reach out. So I reached out to my friend Nicole to see about getting together. We both decided to meet up at a Yoga studio in South Pasadena for a $7 class. I've been meaning to get back into a yoga practice. As some people might know, I have taken a Naked Yoga classes in West Hollywood. I quite enjoy the yoga. But this seemed like a good opportunity to meet up with my friend Nicole.

Nic and I have known each other since college. We both grew up in LA and went to Northern CA for school. So this seemed like a good activity for us to do together. She's been getting into yoga and I've been trying to get back into it. And the price was right.

So we get to the yoga studio and we meet up with this lovely instructor named Natasha. Natasha happens to be the name that my parents always said the had in case they had a daughter. Not that it's important in this situation, but I always have a response to that name whenever I hear it.

Natasha starts class and she says that she's going to pick a word for us to focus on. And that word is WILL. The word for WILL in sanskrit is ICCHAA. She started talking about how we need to push through things using our "icchaa." That sometimes we think that we can't do something, but it's our will that gets us through. Then she talked about the "wall." It's that feeling that you hit when you run a marathon. You "hit the wall." Well, now my ears were perked up because I've run a marathon and I've trained and I've hit the wall several times. It's that feeling of being blocked. And you have to hit through the wall. You have to keep running.

Sometimes that wall is sore legs. Sometimes it's a feeling that you can't go on. Fatigue. But it is mental. It's that concept of "mind over matter." And there's no where I've tested that concept more than running. It's a great visual image of hitting and punching through the wall. And it's great to feel it in your body, when you push through the wall. It kind of drives the lesson home because you FEEL it rather than just think about it.

"I should do that."
"I've been meaning to."
"I know that I'm lazy. I need to get motivated."

It's about doing. Not thinking or planning. Doing.

So back to Natasha: So she says we're going to focus on "icchaa" in this session. When we think we can't do a position or that we can't push it any further, that we should use our "icchaa" to push through. Got it.

Class starts and I'm doing all of my stuff.
Downward Dog: feels fine.
Plank: I do a lot of push ups at the gym, so I'm good to go.
Cobra: All right. I'm not totally warmed up yet and there's a tightening mid spine, on the left side. Paying attention to that.
Warrior 1: I've got this. My body is sweating so I'm trying to keep from sliding.
I'm twisting when she's telling me to twist. I notice that my back is especially tight. But I'm pushing through. I'm breathing...

She then tells us to keep pushing. When you don't feel like you can bend more or get down in a deeper stretch, THAT'S when you need to use that icchaa. When your foot is sliding from sweat, you need to ground yourself. Plant yourself in: icchaa! When you're holding the crocodile pose or the tree pose or Warrior 3: icchaa!!!

Everything was about using that will power to go deeper to take it to the next level to embrace the fact that sometimes you're a tree on a windy day. But that you need to come back to center. Connecting the practice to the sense of calming one's self and getting centered made a great deal of sense to me. Usually I get the spiritual stuff at the beginning and the end, but never throughout. This was connecting it all completely through in a way I hadn't experienced in my yoga practice before.

And this is the thing about will: you realize how strong it is after you've been tested. So my poses were all stronger than they had ever been, even though I hadn't taken a class in a while. My balance was amazing. My fear was less. My confidence in holding poses was strong. I smiled the whole time through class, especially when it got difficult or painful. I sighed and let Natasha know that it was tough. I breathed through it. I brought joy and light into my practice.

Needless to say, I loved class. Nic and I are going to go every Saturday. The $7 class is with rotating teachers. But Nic has enjoyed everyone she's taken class from. I really connected to this practice, so I'm going to try and see if I can make it to Natasha's classes, depending on when they are.

It was a good check in. My body is strong. My icchaa is strong. And my mind is strong. I'm getting through this. I've been missing my ex like crazy lately. And I know that because I'm getting over him, the impulse is strong. His presence is strong within me. But I'm sweeping the floor of all remaining dust. Now it's in a pile in the middle of the floor and I'm taking one last long look at it, to see how much dust has gathered before I sweep it up and throw it out with the trash.

El Pollo Loco

I'm a crazy chicken...and oddly, hungry for some roasted bird.

Let me paint the picture. I was at the gym this morning, getting my chest and back on. Really not wanting to be there, but there did seem to be an abundance of hot guys there today. It's really easy for me to be distracted by dick. It's just the way I'm built. It's a known fact about men in my family (my brother and I) that the men in my family are horn dogs. I thought it was just because I'm a big cock hunting homo, but it's actually not just true of me. We have heavy libidos in my family. We're good partners and husbands, but at the same time, we've got fire in our pants.

Anyway, so I'm kind of doing my thing and I see this pasty skinned guy in a complete running outfit. He's cute. But he's in an orange and black total running outfit. Dorky. And I'm too distracted by my own intense workout...AND I'm at the gym. I have bedhead, eye boogers, a stanky t-shirt on and I'm listening to my fave gym jam, the sped up remix of "Like This" by Kelly Rowland. I'm also dancing around the gym inbetween sets. So any pretense of coolness is gone. I'm pretty dorky myself.

I finish up and I head to the showers. I'm washing the hair, I'm cleaning the nether regions, I'm shaving the balls (yes, I shave my balls at the gym sometimes. Is that gross?). I open my curtain to grab my towel and I see pasty white dork (not to be offensive, but this is all I know of him right now) in his towel getting out of the shower ahead of me. I nod. Interesting.

I take a quick steam and I head to my locker. Pasty White Dork is next to me and he smiles.

"Hi."

"Hello," he says back. Is that a trace of an accent? Okay, so now he's got my attention because he's got a nice body. I caught a glimpse when he was in his towel. Fit, but not obsessive. But not chunky. My friend Susan said I need to get off that train. She also thinks I need to date ethnic to just get my head out of the pasty white guy zone. My friend Alli from NYC would agree. And maybe my friend Nicole from college. Susan's husband also agrees, who I'm just getting to know. He also second the notion (from a way earlier post) that I need to add hotness to my list.

And in his casual work clothes (jeans, navy sweater, tortoise shell glasses), Pasty White Dork looked hot. And he smiled big when I said hi. And I always smile big, so I smiled back. Big. And now we're flirting. I need to get my clothes on without seeming shady. Not that I have a problem flashing my dick to people, I do it all the time. Seriously, I do it all the time. My mother's getting sick of it.

So I turn around and towel myself off in as subtle and non suggestive way as possible. Okay, a little suggestive. But I was actually trying not to be slutty about the whole thing. So I get my gym shorts back on, because I'm going to change at the office and I put on my Number:Lab long sleeved tee, which I think was actually a good choice. It's manly, sporty, and fashionable without being obvious about it. I'm putting my shoes on and he's still messing with his hair in the mirror. I hope he's waiting for me a bit...

So he leaves. I leave after tying my shoe and I wait at the elevator to the parking garage. He comes from grabbing a drink of water and he decides to wait with me at the elevator..."why not?" I make some remark about how it's totally lazy, but it's convenient. I think he thinks that's funny. We get in. I ask him if he had a good workout. I'm not being original at all. He says that he did and that he's a big hungover from his first Super Bowl party. And at this point, I'm definitely hearing an accent. British. Hot. Okay, so now I'm interested. The doors open to the parking garage and I make a stupid comment about how workouts are great for hangovers. Then I say good bye.

I ran out of material! I didn't want to be obvious. So here I am, the crazy chicken, blogging about it. Hey, if we're supposed to meet up again, then fate will step in. And if fate needs a hint, I'll be at the gym at the same time every morning this week. Maybe wearing one of my own matchy workout outfits.

And to my friend Susan: this guy is hot. I know he said he had a hangover and that he's white and pasty. But I saw him at the gym. And you're right, these are the kinds of guys I should be dating.

And I went wow...

I'm the greatest dancer. Quick side note before I launch into this post. I always thought the lyric to Sister Sledge's "He's the Greatest Dancer" was "I wonder why...he's the greatest dancer!" But apparently, it's "And I went wow...he's the greatest dancer!"

So that's where the title of this blog post comes from.

But it's tongue in cheek because I'm NOT the greatest dancer. But I love it. I studied in college and there are things about moving my body in space that I miss. The thing that I didn't have as a dancer when I was young was strength. I was 5'10", 125 pounds. I was thin, thin, thin. And no muscle. So now with 45 more pounds on me, there's more power behind my movement. And it just feels good to articulate with my body. I'm good with the words, but haven't always been with the body. As a young dancer, I was trying to get to know my body for the first time since I wasn't an athlete. I had no relationship to my body at all. So moving was weird because my arms and legs would flail. I had no control.

I have more control now, but also I let go because honestly it's just fun at the gym. The other day my hip hop class had seven guys in it. It was great to be in the room with a bunch of women and 7 powerful guys who were bustin' a move all over the place. They rocked. And this is really the easiest way for me to get my cardio in. I love my running for sure. But dance is great because it's about music that takes you somewhere and helps you forget that your body hurts.

And it's making a difference. I'm looking good. My birthday's coming up next week and a personal goal for me has been to have the body that I want by my birthday. And initially, I thought that meant the pecs poppin and the muscles bustin and the abs workin'. I thought it meant what my body would look like naked. Now I realize that having the body I want is having a body that can take an hour workout in the morning, then a hip hop class at night. A body that can run for six, seven, eight, ten miles. A body that can sweat and be drenched. A body that won't quit. A body that has stamina. And yes, that body will look good naked. It will feel good. And I'm on my way to having that body by February 12th. That body won't be 10% body fat. It won't have a ripped tummy. But it will be fierce in hip hop class. It won't be ashamed to come out and play. It will be a body that needs protein right after a workout to help it grow. It's a body that wants healthy food. It's a body that gets a double take. It's a body that makes me smile with confidence.

And it's a body that is okay with forging ahead alone. A body that doesn't mind going out by itself without friends on a Friday night and will dance on its own.