I went to the gym tonight to make up for my missed practice this morning. M had his regular Tuesday-with-the-guys running meeting and I figured getting my practice in while he was away doing that would work out fine. Besides, I was substituting gym time for yoga, so it couldn’t be THAT bad.
OMG – I was so wrong.
It was not the usual crowds of people and feeling intimidated; that was actually secondary, so secondary that I cannot even recall it crossing my mind once I got started. I had timed my visit to arrive early enough to warm up a bit upstairs and then land in the room where I usually practice around 7, because I thought that was when the last class concluded. It had, but there were several trainers working with clients as well as other members in there using floor space and equipment. It was not even close to horrible – I secured a nice little piece of real estate to do my stuff and got busy.
But the music blaring … OMG, it was country music blaring at such high volume that I continually adjusted the volume on my own headset to drown it out. I am surprised I can still hear anything now, I had it cranked so loud. But the reggae I was trying to use to block out the distractions kept getting interrupted with strong twanging at high decibels from the speakers. There were moments when I contemplated dropping the dumbbell onto my head or wrapping the mini band around my throat like a pony tail wrapper until I was out of my misery.
I did neither, of course; someone probably would have brought me back and that noise would still be surrounding me. And my hearing does not seem worse for the experience.
It makes me never want to miss another morning practice. I had not realized how much I appreciate the blessed silence or whatever painless background is usually playing, only snatches of which reach me through the modest volume of my headset or captures my attention while I am listening to J and his cues and/or conversation. Completely different experience – truly night and day.
I vastly prefer days.