I've taken to the gym again - especially since I get free membership at the JCC, thanks to Darcy's employment there. Overall, I've been very happy with the experience - people are really there to exercise, if they're going to chat, they take it elsewhere.
On Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, I work on cardio training. Right now, I'm focusing on building endurance by treadmill running. After I get over my total hatred of running, I may try taking it up outside, weather permitting, but for now, I'm sticking to the treadmill. After a treadmill session, I hit the elliptical machine, where I can work on cardio and read while doing it. (Yes, they have TVs, but once you've seen Judge Judy 100 or so times, the novelty wears off).
Wednesday, I carried in my latest acquisition from the library - a dual biography on George Patton and Erwin Rommel, two of the most famous generals of World War II. As I carried it into the building and glanced down at the book.
And noticed the cover was liberally sprinkled with swastikas. As I'm walking into the JCC - also known as the Jewish Community Center.
Yes, there were stars as well, but seeing as I was walking into a building containing people who in all likelihood:
- fought in the war
- survived a concentration camp
Next time, I'll pick an alternate book from the nightstand. It just seems less painful that way.
2 comments:
This might sound strange, but I'm going to write it anyway. When I was working out at a traditional gym, I found Vanity Fair to be the perfect companion. They have some fantastic indepth pieces in every issue. They're so intriguing that I found myself forgetting about how much I hated the eliptical trainer and getting lost in the words on the page. I found that in an hour on the machine, I could get through three of their indepth pieces. The variety was amazing, everything from crime to politics to culture.
And nobody will think you're weird or anything reading VF, either.
No really, they won't.
Really.
They won't.
Not even a little, teeny, teeny tiny, tiny itty-bitty bit.
No way.
And if you think you see someone raising an eyebrow for a split second as they glance in your direction, it'll totally just be your imagination.
I mean it.
So go read that Vanity Fair, and read it proudly!
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