I've been fiddling with the time I take my medications, so I can get out of bed earlier without feeling like my head is stuffed with fluff for a few hours, and it seems to be successful, so today's gym session was this morning instead of later in the day.
I walked the mile to the gym in a light, yet warm drizzle, and didn't mind the dampness a bit. Especially not once I got the workout in motion!
Many women complain about not being able to get a decent workout because they get too much unwanted male attention at the gym. This doesn't seem to be an issue with the fellas at my gym. They don't pay much mind to the women wandering about, they're too intent on getting all their reps in. And they CERTAINLY don't pay the fat chick any mind, she's not especially interesting...unless it's the fat chick who jingles as she wanders by. I am often approached by men in the gym who want to know what all the jingling is about, and can I tell them where their wives or girlfriends can learn to bellydance?
Part of the fun of bellydance is having pretty shiny things to drape over yourself, and light, airy veils to decorate your arm work. Now, I don't use veils much at the gym, mostly because it seems a little too "Hey, look at me!", even though veils are great for general dance workout purposes. It's easier and more fun to stay motivated to get your arm carriage right when you're flinging around a couple yards of silk or organza. But I will not forgo a hip scarf. The shiny jingly things are not only pretty, they make noise and help you keep both rhythm and technique where you want them. Essentially, the jingling sounds wrong if you're not executing the moves correctly.
I jingle on by, take a place in front of the big mirrors, and commence to dancing. Today I added an extra song so I could work on abdominal isolations - mostly undulations, but also belly pops and rolls. Core strength is essential when you're intending to ride a long distance!
(To put the distance in perspective, if I were doing it all in a straight route, I'd finish about 20 miles shy of Cleveland!)
Anyway, I did the basic warmup, then started the abdominals...and noticed I had acquired an audience. A pair of very muscular guys, both about 6 feet tall, watching intently. Well, OK. I closed my eyes and kept going. I had this luscious tune to dance to, after all:
Massive Attack - Inertia Creeps (State of Bengal Mix) (YouTube)
"So...uh...bellydance, huh?" He sounded a little shy, and wouldn't make eye contact. His friend elbowed him. "You could introduce yourself, dumbass." I couldn't help it, I burst into giggles. "Hey, guys, it's OK. I know it's not usual to see someone dancing at the gym."
The first guy introduces himself. He's James. His friend is Chris. They heard me jingle on by, and got curious. Then they got surprised. Chris was pretty gregarious. "Baby, that was HOT! Where did you learn to do that? What music were you listening to?" I showed him my playlist and let him hear a little of the last song. He elbows James again, who is trying to be surreptitious about checking out my left hand.
Oh. I see.
"Ah, sweetie, thanks, it's flattering, but I'm unavailable." He jumped a bit, startled that he wasn't as sly as he thought he was. "I don't see a ring!", he grinned. But he didn't argue or fuss, he proferred his hand and said it was nice to meet me, and asked if it was OK to talk to me about dance if he saw me at the gym again, he wondered if men could do it, too. Adorbs!
From thence, the boring part of the workout. Seventy-five minutes on the bike, at a pretty steady, if somewhat moderate pace. Then chest pulls, 30 reps at 50 pounds, and butterflies, 30 reps at 50 pounds. A hot, hot shower. Twenty minutes in the sauna.
A brisk walk the mile back home, and I was done. Pleasantly tired, but not completely wiped out. And amused by the fellas who tried chatting me up.
My ass, however, is still tender. I will be so grateful when the nerve endings over my sit-bones stop firing pain messages at me! Alas, it will be some weeks before I'm able to come home from a workout without yelling "MY BUTT HURTS!" when I walk in the door.
You think maybe I can find some ass-deadening cream or something?
--Missy, the Fat Bottomed Girl
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