Tales From The Y

So I’ve gone back to the YMCA after about a 6-month break. It’s good to sweat out all those mind cobwebs. Besides the physical health benefits, I’ve always been a believer of the mental plusses.

After the treadmill I really look forward to getting in the dry sauna or steam room and just meditating. Quietly.

OMG. So I’m sure you can just imagine how irritating it is when a gang of chatty ladies sweep through the next-door showers or hot tub.

Or right into the steam room with me, interesting as their conversation may be.

I recently learned how one man got $60,000 into debt simply by going out to the bars. That’s quite impressive given the nightlife climate up here.

There are other types of distractions, too.

Why, just this morning I was in the middle of my deep steamy breaths when this mature lady came in quiet enough. Did she wrap the towel around herself and sit (like me)? Nah. She spread out her towel and laid down on it. On her back. Completely horizontal. Completely nude.

Which might have been OK. For some reason most all the women except for me, it seems, just like to let it all hang out, sitting in all kinds of positions all throughout the women’s locker room area. They are not modest at all.

But this lady proceeds to start doing some sort of stomach crunches by lifting her legs to a 90-degree angle repeatedly. I’m glad I was on her head end.

Totally blew my meditation session.