The Gym...Take 2
So I did indeed go back to the gym today. Yes, it was mainly in search of blog material. But I was somewhat disappointed. I minded my manners and tried my best not to judge those on the treadmills next to me. I also did not sing out loud.
***side note...This may be because I avoided all rap songs on my ipod today. I stuck with Ben Folds and Eric Hutchinson. I will say this though, I am so in love with Hey Soul Sister by Train. I am perplexed by some of the lyrics though, my heart is bound to beat right out of my untrimmed chest...Really? Who says that? Who talks about their chest like that? Especially in a hip song to a girl? But it is quickly followed by one of my favorite (although again perplexing) lines, like a virgin you're Madonna. And then because I am a dork and just looked the lyrics up to make sure that I typed them correctly, I realized that I have been singing one of the lines incorrectly...Your sweet moving...um, yeah, ok. I was singing...your sweet moon beams. Sure, I have no idea what that would mean but I've been singing it that way for months now. Go ahead, just call me Weird Al. Its kind of like that song by Prodigy (many moons ago)...I totally thought it was Snap My Picture. But, alas, its not.
Back to the lecture at hand, I did run into several people that I know outside of the gym at the gym. One of them is a lady (that I love) that is a support person at central office for the county that I work for. She is from the North (somewhere) and I noticed that she calls me "Ang." This is actually a comfort. It makes me feel like she knows me and is comfortable with me. I know that not all people with long names feel this way, but there is a certain level of familiarity when someone shortens your name to one syllable. My name is Angela. I have never gone by Angela. I was named after my great grandmother and that's how I got stuck with Angela. I go by Angie. But in actuality, I go by Ang. Only you can't tell people right off the bat, "Hey nice to meet you. Call me Ang." That's weird. So you just hope that they catch on. If my mother calls me Angie then I know that she means business. If she calls me Angela, then I know that she is about to kick my ass. I do the same thing with the girls - I typically call them things like, chickadee or sweet pea. When I am not feeling all lovey I call them Case and Chan. When they are about to feel my wrath I call them Casey and Chandler. About this lady being from the North, I actually think that this has something to do with her calling me Ang right away. No one at work calls me Ang, so she didn't get it from there. I have nothing to basis this theory on, but I do believe it.
So, onto my next Gym observation. At 6 min 35 sec into my workout, I thought to myself, Whew! Surely this could be good enough!, but I knew better and persevered through the remaining 23 min 25 seconds. I walked almost 2 miles. And then I came home and had 3 servings of the Pioneer Woman's chicken pot pie. I am not joking. We were supposed to have leftovers on Wednesday, but now there is not enough. Perhaps I've made a mistake by doing this and all of the good that the gym did me vanished in the middle of my first helping. I don't know for sure, but I think this might be the case.