It's what the Doc said...

I went to the gym today.  I go every day except Saturdays and Sundays and some Wednesdays.  Some Wednesdays are "Fritter Wednesdays".  Some friends come over for apple fritters, and we gather around the kitchen table, eat fritters, drink coffee, and offer alternative solutions to the world's problems. They are Dunkin Donuts fritters which aren't  as good as the ones from the coffee house in Oakland, but much closer.  On other days I'm at the gym.  The doc says,"Get exercise!" But the gym I go to isn't like Rocky Balboa's or like the one that girl on TV frequents.  Nope, it doesn't have those finely toned bodies and those guys with rippling muscles and  six packs    I haven't seen those yet. Although visions of finely toned female forms could, or rather would, appeal to my more primitive interests. But, alas, they are not there.  The people I see at the gym are older.  Some of them use walkers and pull little carts with oxygen bottles.

I usually start my routine  on a recumbent fixed bicycle.  It's kind of relaxing and is right in front of one of the many televisions.  All the televisions have subtitles  and no volume, that way the television sound doesn't interfere with 105 the Weasel coming form the overhead speakers. The televisions are nice, but I don't see well enough to read the subtitles, so I read a book instead. The book I'm currently reading is Lewis Grizzard's "Kathy Sue Loudermilk, I Love You or A Good Beer Joint is Hard To Find and Other Facts of Life." I have my own mp3 player. My tastes run from rock to opera. I can usually kick up a notch when listening to Freddie Mercury singing "We Are The Champions".

Sometimes you see some rather amusing things at the gym.  I don't know why the people insist on pushing on the I-beams that hold up the roof.  Don't they know they can't move them.  People have pushed on the iron railings so much that there are now "Keep Off the Railings" signs.  Most people are rather quiet while exercising.  They either listen to their music or engage in quiet conversation with a friend.  Some sing along with their iPods or repeat phrases of a foreign language. But then there are the grunters. They are usually participating in heavy exercise like lifting weights.  They're not soft grunts like those of a constipated  baby, but loud rumbling grunts that vibrate the walls. Does a grunt help move the weight?  I don't know.

I have a simple exercise routine.  After twenty minutes on the exercise bike, I walk two miles. (At one time I walked three miles, but that got in the way of watching reruns of Perry Mason.) Some people walk carrying dumbbells. I don't.  If the good Lord had meant for me to carry dumbbells he would have attached them to my arms.  I just carry my two hundred plus, plus, pounds.  I once did crunches but I gave up the exercise crunches. Captain Crunch is more my style.

Wow, tomorrow's Saturday and I don't have to go to the gym!