My Unscheduled Thursday Workout

I really like pizza. But I figure if I’m going to eat pizza for dinner on Tuesday and Saturday, then I ought to climb onto an elliptical on Monday and Wednesday evenings, and also Sunday afternoon. I’ll spend a half hour on an elliptical. I don’t mess around, I go at it pretty good. There are pulse sensing handgrips on the ellipticals and once I get warmed up I try to maintain a heart rate of 120 per minute. I sweat. It’s not pretty. I don’t know how people can read a magazine while on an exercise bike, elliptical, or a treadmill. I’m too busy concentrating on keeping up my pace. I do all of this at a gym that has a couple of dozen treadmills, exercise bikes, ellipticals, and a huge section full of weight lifting machines.

Yesterday a guy climbed aboard the elliptical that was on my right. As is my practice, I tried to discreetly give him a glance. I do that because I am both curious, and a normal girl. From what I was able to gather from my two second glance, he was a muscular, good-looking guy who was probably around thirty. My nose told me that he was also odorless, which is always a good thing.

In the past it has occurred to me to slow down and go into a kind of “non-sweating mode” when doing cardio alongside a good-looking guy, but I’ve never actually done it. I guess I figure if I’m going to get dressed and drive to the gym, I might as well do what I intended to do. Anyway, the guy had been alongside me for about five minutes when he said a hello and asked how I was doing. I thought he might be talking to someone else, so I gave a glimpse out of the corner of my eye. There was no one on the elliptical to his right, just me, on his left. A few seconds later he mumbled something about meeting him for a drink. He said that he had already “lifted” and he was just doing a little cardio to finish his workout. He then said that he could meet me in about twenty minutes anywhere I wanted.

For about two seconds I was flattered. Then the arrogance of his offer angered me. I mean, where does this guy get off asking me to meet him? What kind of girl does he think I am? It ran through my mind that he was just like all other muscular guys; egotistical. And if the muscular guy is also good-looking, the self-absorption is doubled.

I stopped my pedaling, turned his direction and in no uncertain terms said, “Forget it. No way.”

The guy rotated my direction as a puzzled look overtook his face. It was then I saw the Bluetooth in his right ear. Clearly confused, he muttered. “Excuse me?”

For a few seconds I could not utter a sound. Finally I was able to babble, “Oh… never mind. I thought you were someone else.”

I still had twenty minutes left in my workout, but on this one occasion I figured I had better quit early. I climbed from the elliptical, grabbed my towel, and hurried towards the door. This week instead of Wednesday, I’ll workout on Thursday.  

Heather the Crybaby

I’m a big crybaby. Yesterday my mother sent me a photo taken when I was 13 or 14 years old. We were living in Columbus then and I was with my best friend at the time, Molly Carpenter. We were hugging each other and laughing. When I first saw the picture I smiled. Then, slowly, the smile eroded and I began to cry. I hate it when I cry over stupid stuff, and I cry over stupid stuff all the time.

I’m always crying during movies. I’ll bet I cry about once a month while watching a movie. The other day I watched the animated film Tangled. It’s the story, Rapunzel, which is an old fairy tale. I watched the movie alone because I knew I was going to cry, and sure enough, I did. What a crybaby.

Two years ago I saw a squirrel get hit by a car on a quiet side street. I was driving the opposite direction and saw the squirrel run out in front of the other car. I pulled over to the curb and walked back to the squirrel. I wanted to see if he was okay, or hurt, or dead. He did not look like he was injured too badly, but his breathing was very labored. A few second later the breathing stopped entirely. For a moment I just stood there and looked down at him, and then I started to cry.  

I don’t think I‘m overly sensitive. I think the problem is; I simply cry too easily. I don’t know what I can do about it. I suppose it’s better to be a person who cries too easily when compared to someone who is hardhearted and is incapable of crying. I feel sorry for people like that. My god, I don’t want to feel too sorry for them, I might start crying. Oh the irony. :)

Heather About Heather

I'm originally from Columbus, Ohio. I lived there until I was 15. I liked Columbus. I liked Ohio. One time when I was about 12 our family went to a drive-in movie in the town of Lancaster, Ohio, about an hour away from home. We stopped and had dinner at a Frisch's. It's funny but I don't remember anything about the movies, or even what I ate for dinner, but I remember that night fondly. And I also remember that up until the time we got into the car I didn't want to go. Kind of funny, huh?

My father got a job in Chicago so we moved here. It took me a while but I came to like it. It really is a great city. There's a lot to do and see. It might sound crazy but as much as I like Chicago, I think I would prefer living in a small town. I guess that one trip to Lancaster stayed with me.

I went to the University of Illinois for a year then left. I just couldn't decide what to get serious about. Maybe my lot in life is to stay carefree about life in general. My father would not like to hear that.

Up until about a year ago I had a boyfriend. We were together for a year and a half. He was 34 years old and was previously married. He was a fun, energetic guy who would also take the time to listen to me as I talked about the things that made me laugh, and the things that made me sad. I thought he was pretty special. Unfortunately he could not get by the fact that I was twelve years younger than he was.

Anyway, I've got my own apartment, and a newly purchased 2006 Toyota. I'm twenty minutes from work, about a mile from a mall, and about a half mile from a work-out facility, to which I pay about $20 a month to sweat on an elliptical three times a week. Life could be a whole lot worse.