Everyone who swims at the gym must have read my blog post last week, because there was not a soul in the pool when I arrived for my workout on Friday at 5:00 pm. After thoroughly checking the area to make sure that there were no signs announcing a shark attack or rat infestation, I hopped in the first lane. There was only one guy who got in for the entire 60 mins that I was doing my workout. And just in case you're super concerned about me drowning if I do in fact have the pool all to myself - have no fear. Not only is the hot tub and sauna (which usually have people in them) about 10 feet away from the pool, but the pool itself is only about 3 and a half feet deep all the way across. It's a good idea in theory, but it might still be a little too shallow. Those big guys have a heck of a time with the underwater turns.
After my workout, I showered and went over to a friend's house to watch the opening of the Winter Olympics. I was pretty impressed with the opening ceremonies and wished the whole time that I was still on the west coast so I could take a jaunt up to Vancouver to check out the spectacle.
The weekend was pretty low key - I went shopping to find some new workout shoes (because I'm so hardcore now) and hung around the house. Sunday was the day of love - Valentines Day and Steve and I celebrated by going to Lawry's Prime Rib and having an excellent meal and a delightful evening. If you're into to it, check out my Yelp review (lindsaykell.yelp.com).
Monday's kwando (kickboxing) class was as brutal as always, but my endurance is up and I'm hardly sore for it. I look forward to my swimming workout today. It always makes my muscles relax and loosen up. It's disappointing that I haven't lost any weight yet...but I probably need to modify my diet along with this new exercise regimen and remind myself that just because I'm working out doesn't mean I can eat whatever I want.
Other than that, all is quiet on the home-front. The boyfriend is sick with head cold, which thankfully doesn't happen to often, because I don't dodge colds very well. Only time will tell if I can successfully keep my immune system in check and not catch it from him. I did my taxes last night and am totally not getting as much back as I thought-- bummer. February is almost over, and that means the worst of winter in Chicago is also almost over. I am massively looking forward to March, because I have a trip home to Oregon planned the 18-22 and a trip to New York (first-timers) with my boyfriend planned the 25-28. Both should be a VERY sweet (and much needed) break indeed!
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
Friday, February 12, 2010
Adding Poeple to the (Pool) Party
When I got to the pool on Wednesday, it was more crowded than I had ever seen it. There were two people in every lane and another guy had jumped in to add three to a lane as soon I arrived. I've only been a member at this Bally for four weeks, but I'd never imagined it could get like this. So much for being one of the few.
In lane one was a girl who was swimming hardcore laps, along with some brave soul who had jumped in with her to swim right after I got there. The problem with the brave soul, was that when he started to "swim laps," he kept his head above water and doggy paddled down to the end of the lane. Maybe he'd just gelled his hair?!? This obviously didn't impress the hardcore swimmer, because she nearly ran him over with her vicious turns and strokes. I chuckled at the spectacle.
In the lane next to them, a third guy had jumped into an already crowded lane with two more good sized guys. He was pretty aggressive when he asked if he could join the lane, and although one of the guys in the pool tried his darnedest to hint that it probably wasn't a good idea, Mr. Aggressive got in anyway. They proceeded to swim in an awkward circle. I've swam in many a circle at the U of O, but those lanes we of Olympic size width and length. Three should not be done in these skinny, short Bally lanes.
The third lane was pretty unremarkable, as there were only two guys swimming side-by-side like normal lap swimmers. The last lane, also identified by a sign as the"Loafer Lane," held a small Asian woman and a girl that I recognized as one of the trainers at Bally. Said trainer was obviously giving the woman swimming lessons, because when she asked her trainee to swim to the end, the woman looked worse than hair-gel boy in the first lane. Needless to say, I raised my eyebrows in amazement that they would be doing this at 5:00 pm, the busiest time at the gym.
I then reflected on how quickly I had regained my former position of Pool Snob from the U of O rec pool. It was now I, who was rolling her eyes at the non-hardcore pool users. I felt ashamed for 2.5 seconds and then proceeded to stand at the end of the pool, hoping a lane would open up.
Five minutes later, one of guys in the third lane got out. If I was not such a Pool Snob, I might have waited to see if one of the guys in the three-lapper wanted to move over to swim. BUT, I instead rationalized that if Mr. Aggressive would have waited 7 more minutes, he would have had a lane with only one other person-- so I jumped in the pool.
It turned out to be an excellent choice because my lane partner got out about 10 minutes later. When I looked up, I realized that hair-gel boy, and one of the other guys in the three-lapper had also gotten out. I swam for the next half hour with a lane to myself, and was then joined by one of the "kick board twins," a name I've affectionately given to the two girls that swim around the same time as me, but use their kick boards to swim down the pool together and chat. I envy their cleverness, as Bally (as far as I know), does not store kick boards for gym use and I will need to upgrade my gym bag from my backpack before I consider buying one and hauling it around.
As I walked out of the gym after my workout, I saw the culprit that brought on the events of the day. The flyer read something like this-- "Want to add something new to your work out? Training for a Triathalon? Come check out our pool! See Heather for details." Great.
In lane one was a girl who was swimming hardcore laps, along with some brave soul who had jumped in with her to swim right after I got there. The problem with the brave soul, was that when he started to "swim laps," he kept his head above water and doggy paddled down to the end of the lane. Maybe he'd just gelled his hair?!? This obviously didn't impress the hardcore swimmer, because she nearly ran him over with her vicious turns and strokes. I chuckled at the spectacle.
In the lane next to them, a third guy had jumped into an already crowded lane with two more good sized guys. He was pretty aggressive when he asked if he could join the lane, and although one of the guys in the pool tried his darnedest to hint that it probably wasn't a good idea, Mr. Aggressive got in anyway. They proceeded to swim in an awkward circle. I've swam in many a circle at the U of O, but those lanes we of Olympic size width and length. Three should not be done in these skinny, short Bally lanes.
The third lane was pretty unremarkable, as there were only two guys swimming side-by-side like normal lap swimmers. The last lane, also identified by a sign as the"Loafer Lane," held a small Asian woman and a girl that I recognized as one of the trainers at Bally. Said trainer was obviously giving the woman swimming lessons, because when she asked her trainee to swim to the end, the woman looked worse than hair-gel boy in the first lane. Needless to say, I raised my eyebrows in amazement that they would be doing this at 5:00 pm, the busiest time at the gym.
I then reflected on how quickly I had regained my former position of Pool Snob from the U of O rec pool. It was now I, who was rolling her eyes at the non-hardcore pool users. I felt ashamed for 2.5 seconds and then proceeded to stand at the end of the pool, hoping a lane would open up.
Five minutes later, one of guys in the third lane got out. If I was not such a Pool Snob, I might have waited to see if one of the guys in the three-lapper wanted to move over to swim. BUT, I instead rationalized that if Mr. Aggressive would have waited 7 more minutes, he would have had a lane with only one other person-- so I jumped in the pool.
It turned out to be an excellent choice because my lane partner got out about 10 minutes later. When I looked up, I realized that hair-gel boy, and one of the other guys in the three-lapper had also gotten out. I swam for the next half hour with a lane to myself, and was then joined by one of the "kick board twins," a name I've affectionately given to the two girls that swim around the same time as me, but use their kick boards to swim down the pool together and chat. I envy their cleverness, as Bally (as far as I know), does not store kick boards for gym use and I will need to upgrade my gym bag from my backpack before I consider buying one and hauling it around.
As I walked out of the gym after my workout, I saw the culprit that brought on the events of the day. The flyer read something like this-- "Want to add something new to your work out? Training for a Triathalon? Come check out our pool! See Heather for details." Great.
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
I Love to Swim: Lindsay's History
Picking up swimming again at Bally makes me want to reflect on how I became one of the few who choose this activity as part of their weekly workouts...
I've been swimming since before I can remember. And probably the only reason I can be sure of that is because my parents were avid video-tapers of my activities. The way I see it, I had a 50/50 chance of liking the water. My dad's family is all about swimming. According to my dad, my grandfather used to swim regularly in Boundry Bay with his five children. My two cousins were both captains of the swim teams in high school, and my ancestors were supposedly Pirates. Most of my mother's side of the family is deathly afraid of the water, which is odd considering they all grew up in Monterey, CA; inches from the Pacific Ocean.
My dad has a great respect for the water, which I have found is much different than my mom's fear. When we moved to Oregon when I was five, he signed me and my then two-year-old brother up for swimming lessons. According to the videos I've seen, I loved it (bro, not so much). My parents had to all but pull me from the water when it was time to leave. From there, we took swimming lessons every summer at the pool in our town. I used to loathe my dad for making me stop playing with my friends and do extra laps when we went to the pool for fun. I guess it didn't scar me too much. I never swam in high school, or on any swim team for that matter. I was busy with basketball in the winter, but looking back I wish I would have tried swim team instead; I was pretty fast.
I got a job at that same pool during the summers that I was in college. I started swimming laps for fun and after the summer was over, I realized how good it felt to be stronger (and thinner!). So, I started swimming in college. There were two pools at U of O-- one Olympic-sized pool in the main rec center and a smaller, older one in the old rec building. I made the mistake of marching into the main rec with my summer two-piece on. I'm sure it was not as dramatic as I remember, but I felt like I was met with stares from everyone who was SO hardcore in their speedos, swim caps and goggles. It only took one time for me to realize that this would be the pool that I would have to work up to. I swam in the old pool for many months, until I finally bought a swim cap, speedo and plunged like a pro into the new rec center pool to take my place among snobs.
I also took a swim class my junior year of college. It might sound super lame, one of the greatest moments of my life was when the instructor asked ME to demonstrate good technique for a drill. No one else, including the kids in the "best lane" (which, I'll admit was only one over from mine), had been asked after or before for the rest of the term, so I felt like a true pro.
Fast forward to Chicago in 2010 and you will now find me swimming up a storm at Bally after work on Wednesdays and Fridays. I love the feeling of gliding through the water, and clearing my head to focus on the feeling of each stroke. It's slow going now, but I'm determined to work back up to where I was, and hopefully get fit in the process! I know that swimming will be something that I can continue enjoy for my entire life.
I've been swimming since before I can remember. And probably the only reason I can be sure of that is because my parents were avid video-tapers of my activities. The way I see it, I had a 50/50 chance of liking the water. My dad's family is all about swimming. According to my dad, my grandfather used to swim regularly in Boundry Bay with his five children. My two cousins were both captains of the swim teams in high school, and my ancestors were supposedly Pirates. Most of my mother's side of the family is deathly afraid of the water, which is odd considering they all grew up in Monterey, CA; inches from the Pacific Ocean.
My dad has a great respect for the water, which I have found is much different than my mom's fear. When we moved to Oregon when I was five, he signed me and my then two-year-old brother up for swimming lessons. According to the videos I've seen, I loved it (bro, not so much). My parents had to all but pull me from the water when it was time to leave. From there, we took swimming lessons every summer at the pool in our town. I used to loathe my dad for making me stop playing with my friends and do extra laps when we went to the pool for fun. I guess it didn't scar me too much. I never swam in high school, or on any swim team for that matter. I was busy with basketball in the winter, but looking back I wish I would have tried swim team instead; I was pretty fast.
I got a job at that same pool during the summers that I was in college. I started swimming laps for fun and after the summer was over, I realized how good it felt to be stronger (and thinner!). So, I started swimming in college. There were two pools at U of O-- one Olympic-sized pool in the main rec center and a smaller, older one in the old rec building. I made the mistake of marching into the main rec with my summer two-piece on. I'm sure it was not as dramatic as I remember, but I felt like I was met with stares from everyone who was SO hardcore in their speedos, swim caps and goggles. It only took one time for me to realize that this would be the pool that I would have to work up to. I swam in the old pool for many months, until I finally bought a swim cap, speedo and plunged like a pro into the new rec center pool to take my place among snobs.
I also took a swim class my junior year of college. It might sound super lame, one of the greatest moments of my life was when the instructor asked ME to demonstrate good technique for a drill. No one else, including the kids in the "best lane" (which, I'll admit was only one over from mine), had been asked after or before for the rest of the term, so I felt like a true pro.
Fast forward to Chicago in 2010 and you will now find me swimming up a storm at Bally after work on Wednesdays and Fridays. I love the feeling of gliding through the water, and clearing my head to focus on the feeling of each stroke. It's slow going now, but I'm determined to work back up to where I was, and hopefully get fit in the process! I know that swimming will be something that I can continue enjoy for my entire life.
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
A Gym Rat in the Making
http://www.yelp.com/user_details?userid=-E-Fui3-t6jkMoQfANZ9TQ
My Yelp Review of the Bally gym that I just joined says it all. It's not pretty, but it is functioning. I didn't think it was possible to get a cheap gym membership in Chicago, but I only pay $28 dollars a month and can go to any Bally now.
I was so tired of gaining weight over these ridiculously cold winters that Chicago is known for. I was NOT motivated to work out by myself in the little gym of my apartment building and doing work out videos in my living room was getting old. I'm not one to push myself without some type of motivation.
This Bally is working pretty well for me. I do kickboxing class on Mondays after work and I swim on Wednesdays and Fridays for an hour. This Wednesday will mark the fourth week of my routine. I haven't noticed that much of a difference in my body yet, but I do feel better about myself...which I guess is a good start.
The classes are NOT for the weak willed. We start at 5:30 sharp and do NOT stop until 6:30. Our instructor encourages us to drink water, but there is never a time when everyone takes a break. Push-ups, football shuffles, jumping jacks, squats and planks are mixed in between kicks, jabs, crosses and upper-cuts. I took a kickboxing class in college, but I don't remember it being this tough. I was probably in better shape, though. I'm happy to report that I'm not nearly as sore today as I was after last Monday's class.
I LOVE to swim. I've been doing it since before I can remember. It is the best way for me to work out....no soreness/sweating/gasping for air. I realize I probably don't push myself as hard as the instructor in kickboxing does, but I still feel like I get a good workout. The pool at Bally is not the best. There are only four lanes and I can touch both the right & left lane separators at the same time when I reach my arms out to my sides. I've only had to share the lane a few times, and never for the full duration of my workout. I don't really mind when I share with a smaller individual, but larger guys make it tough.
All in all, I have been pleased with the gym. It is most certainly not perfect, but it gets the job done. I basically have no excuse NOT to go because it's only four blocks from work. Here's to slowly becoming a gym rat and hopefully not gaining any more weight this winter!
My Yelp Review of the Bally gym that I just joined says it all. It's not pretty, but it is functioning. I didn't think it was possible to get a cheap gym membership in Chicago, but I only pay $28 dollars a month and can go to any Bally now.
I was so tired of gaining weight over these ridiculously cold winters that Chicago is known for. I was NOT motivated to work out by myself in the little gym of my apartment building and doing work out videos in my living room was getting old. I'm not one to push myself without some type of motivation.
This Bally is working pretty well for me. I do kickboxing class on Mondays after work and I swim on Wednesdays and Fridays for an hour. This Wednesday will mark the fourth week of my routine. I haven't noticed that much of a difference in my body yet, but I do feel better about myself...which I guess is a good start.
The classes are NOT for the weak willed. We start at 5:30 sharp and do NOT stop until 6:30. Our instructor encourages us to drink water, but there is never a time when everyone takes a break. Push-ups, football shuffles, jumping jacks, squats and planks are mixed in between kicks, jabs, crosses and upper-cuts. I took a kickboxing class in college, but I don't remember it being this tough. I was probably in better shape, though. I'm happy to report that I'm not nearly as sore today as I was after last Monday's class.
I LOVE to swim. I've been doing it since before I can remember. It is the best way for me to work out....no soreness/sweating/gasping for air. I realize I probably don't push myself as hard as the instructor in kickboxing does, but I still feel like I get a good workout. The pool at Bally is not the best. There are only four lanes and I can touch both the right & left lane separators at the same time when I reach my arms out to my sides. I've only had to share the lane a few times, and never for the full duration of my workout. I don't really mind when I share with a smaller individual, but larger guys make it tough.
All in all, I have been pleased with the gym. It is most certainly not perfect, but it gets the job done. I basically have no excuse NOT to go because it's only four blocks from work. Here's to slowly becoming a gym rat and hopefully not gaining any more weight this winter!
Friday, February 5, 2010
A Needed Farewell
I posted this today on my Myspace blog, I thought I would post it here as well and make my myself official...
Whether out of sentiment or some other reason, my mother has kept my bedroom in my old house in Sisters, Oregon EXACTLY the same since the day I walked out for college in the Fall of 2003. The pictures of all my sports teams, clubs and school dances still litter the walls. My glow-in-the-dark plastic stars still stick to the closet mirror. I still have candy in the second drawer of my desk that I used to munch on when I was doing homework. Several stuffed animals still sit on the headboard of my bed. My purple blow-up chair sits slightly inflated in the corner, and the candles that I used to burn on my dresser still have books of matches by them, ready to be lit again.
Aside from my mother mentioning that I probably need to go through the clothes that are STILL in the closet and dresser from high school, there has never been talk of turning my bedroom into a craft room, an office or removing any of the silly high school things to make it a proper guest room.
It’s so different to visit your old house when you’re in college than when you’re 25 and have been in the work force for three years. College is still like a home-away-from-home. Dorms and apartments only allow for so much stuff, and I always returned home for long periods for Christmas and the summer. My friends from high school were all on the same schedule too, then. Now that most of my friends are gone and I have a life in Chicago with my own home, job, bills, etc, I ultimately feel like a visitor.
But when I walk into my old room and am immediately transported back in time 7 (SEVEN!) years, I know that this house will always be safe, familiar and a place I will always belong. Maybe Mom knows how I feel, even though the sentiment has never been spoken.
I have no doubt that Mom and Dad will eventually move out of that house, and my room will have to come apart. But I’m okay with that. My room represents so much of who I was and how that has influenced who I am right now. It’s a world that slowly fades with every year as I realize how old those pictures of Prom are. Although that room will not always be mine, the memories will be.
This will be my final blog for Myspace. I hardly come on here anymore, so it seems silly to keep a barely-used blog in a place that doesn’t really fit me. Have no fear—I’ll still check comments and update pics and stuff, but I have decided to move my blog to http://lindsaykell.blogspot.com/ in hopes that I’ll actually be motivated to write more. Please feel free to check it, subscribe, etc. Thanks for reading and sharing comments here in the past years!
Love,
Lindsay
Whether out of sentiment or some other reason, my mother has kept my bedroom in my old house in Sisters, Oregon EXACTLY the same since the day I walked out for college in the Fall of 2003. The pictures of all my sports teams, clubs and school dances still litter the walls. My glow-in-the-dark plastic stars still stick to the closet mirror. I still have candy in the second drawer of my desk that I used to munch on when I was doing homework. Several stuffed animals still sit on the headboard of my bed. My purple blow-up chair sits slightly inflated in the corner, and the candles that I used to burn on my dresser still have books of matches by them, ready to be lit again.
Aside from my mother mentioning that I probably need to go through the clothes that are STILL in the closet and dresser from high school, there has never been talk of turning my bedroom into a craft room, an office or removing any of the silly high school things to make it a proper guest room.
It’s so different to visit your old house when you’re in college than when you’re 25 and have been in the work force for three years. College is still like a home-away-from-home. Dorms and apartments only allow for so much stuff, and I always returned home for long periods for Christmas and the summer. My friends from high school were all on the same schedule too, then. Now that most of my friends are gone and I have a life in Chicago with my own home, job, bills, etc, I ultimately feel like a visitor.
But when I walk into my old room and am immediately transported back in time 7 (SEVEN!) years, I know that this house will always be safe, familiar and a place I will always belong. Maybe Mom knows how I feel, even though the sentiment has never been spoken.
I have no doubt that Mom and Dad will eventually move out of that house, and my room will have to come apart. But I’m okay with that. My room represents so much of who I was and how that has influenced who I am right now. It’s a world that slowly fades with every year as I realize how old those pictures of Prom are. Although that room will not always be mine, the memories will be.
This will be my final blog for Myspace. I hardly come on here anymore, so it seems silly to keep a barely-used blog in a place that doesn’t really fit me. Have no fear—I’ll still check comments and update pics and stuff, but I have decided to move my blog to http://lindsaykell.blogspot.com/ in hopes that I’ll actually be motivated to write more. Please feel free to check it, subscribe, etc. Thanks for reading and sharing comments here in the past years!
Love,
Lindsay
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
