And then, I almost punched the guy on the exercise bike beside me in the throat....

So, in regards to what I said earlier this year about seeing people at the gym...who were new, or returning or whatever...I would like to put something out there.
I was on the bike today at the gym...like I have been hundreds, maybe thousands of times...and halfway thru my 40 minute cardio (the time I had been on the bike bears mentioning for later)...at about the 20 minute mark...which is halfway for those of us, like myself, who like to live in Obviousland (instead of OBLIVIOUSLAND, where many seem to live...but, I digress ) HALFWAY through the workout, a guy got on the bike beside me. I had my earphones on watching a movie with that guy from Grimm in it...the movie was clearly shot in TO...David Keely was in it...Shawn Byfield was in it... it was about disco... BUT, I DIGRESS... again, I had my earphones on... but you know how or when someone is trying to get your attention just by being physically OBVIOUS (not oblivious...or, upon further relection, maybe he was, actually)...he was all looking at my screen...looking at me...trying to make eye contact again and again. And I like to keep in my zone and not strike up new friendships while on the "random" setting on the exercise bike...because those fucking hills sneak up on you.

And I was enjoying my disco movie...and  my workout.

When I was done I took out my earphones and wiped down my machine...and  Obvious Guy says, with a lot of voice projection, "Fun, huh?"

Oh, it bears being said here that Obvious Guy looks like Ned Flanders from the Simpsons.

I say, "Sometimes." and I smile and begin to walk away...and for another few sweet seconds he and I are in a land where we are equal and just commiserating, me mostly against my will, about a hard workout.

He laughs, "Well, don't worry...it gets easier."

I stop, turn back and look at him.

He is barely pedalling on his bike.

I look away.

I decide to contain myself.

It is a decision I now regret.

What a gross assumption to make.   

AND let my soap box, freak out begin.

To assume that it is my (OR ANYONE'S) first day at the gym is very condescending.

Very.

And, quite frankly, idiotic and rude...and that kind of remark, no matter how well intended...although I cannot figure out how it could be well intended... is designed to make someone feel less than.

It is like you have looked me over from head to toe, without my consent, and found me wanting...and out of my element.

And this pisses me off to no end. 

If you have never been overweight you may not know this feeling...but I can guarantee if you have...you have felt it, and it pissed you off.

It is along the lines of, "Good for you."

Or, "Keep at it."

All said with a smile... still making the statement no less condescending.

Yes, if you can believe it, people YOU DON'T KNOW like to lean into your workout and give you that kind of encouragement...and when I wrote on my Facebook page earlier about new years gym kindness...some people said that they like to encourage people THEY DON'T KNOW who are or seem to be new to gym with words, without being prompted...and I never said anything back then...but I will say here and now, that usually NEVER works out.  

If you need to encourage people with words, without being asked BY THIS PERSON for an opinion or that kind of support, I believe (and all of you may not...I know...but this is my blog...so) you have looked someone over and judged (however kindly it may be meant or feel) them out of their element.

Here is where I would like to say, on behalf some of the overweight people at the gym,  just let people be.

Let them fit in and be normal.

That would be the very best thing you could do in my humble opinion.

If they ask for help and you feel like giving it...by all means help out!!

BUT PLEASE DON'T OFFER YOUR OPINION WITHOUT BEING ASKED. IT IS THE KIND OF THING THAT MIGHT KEEP SOMEONE NEW FROM COMING BACK.

OR IT IS THE KIND OF THING THAT MIGHT CAUSE SOMEONE RETURNING TO WANT TO PUNCH YOU IN THE THROAT.

Too harsh?

I am just so fussed up.

I wish I had said something...and I didn't because I thought I was either A: going to say something I would regret or B: follow that thought by either punching the person in the throat  or almost break my soul by trying not to punch them in the throat.

Now, I am not a violent person...not really...but well, there you go.

Sharron's Moral of the Story: (this is not everyone's moral...some of you may feel different...but again, it my blog...so...)  Let people be. Live and let live. Help when asked if you can...and if you feel yourself wanting to say, "Keep it up." or "Good for You." or "It gets easier." to someone YOU HAVE NEVER met...hold your tongue...and think about what made you think you could say that TO SOMEONE YOU HAVE EVER MET...or why you think this person YOU HAVE NEVER MET needs your help. 

But that is just me.

So, if you see me...and feel these feelings...and you read my moral. Please be advised.

And then, if all else fails...thanks to my pal Morleen on Facebook, there is this...

 

Have a good day all!

   

And then I felt out of the truck...Happy January.

I hate the cold.
I do.
Cue all the people saying, “Well, Sharron we DO live in Canada.”

I KNOW!!!

But you see, to me, Toronto is like the Florida of Canada...ya know what I mean?

Maybe you don't.
I would like to ask here, in all seriousness, does ANYONE really like to wake up and see this?

 

ANYONE?!?!
Do the five people I saw riding BIKES this morning... REALLY!?!?...like this Weather of Doom?
Or does the dude I saw walking around with his Danier

leather jacket open to the sport shirt while he talked on his Blackberry (come on!!) without gloves on (COME ON!!!)...enjoy the Gusting Wind Of Tight Boobiness?
Maybe the chick who budded...YES, BUDDED...in line in front of me at the Starbucks in her fur lined, million dollar ear flap hat, that matched her TO THE GROUND Canada Goose jacket (is that what they are called?) AND her matching-every-other-piece-of-her-wardrobe Sorell boots...another investment...yes, I have a pair...but I live in Christmasland, so I need them...not saying that she didn’t...but...HOW DID I GET SO FAR OFF TOPIC...PROBABLY because of the fucking fucking fucking fucking cold...anyhow, back to the the outfitted chick that budded in front of me in line at Starbucks...if you know me AT ALL you know how I feel about the budding...and she spiritedly was ordering her venti mocha-choka-la-da-dee-da? Does she like the Slush of Mordor?
(Actually, to be honest, she seemed quite thrilled about the weather, I think she was waiting to wear her new billion dollar Arctic Christmas Outift...her joy was the only thing that kept me from choking her.)
Do any of you REALLY  LIKE THE COLD?
Again...just for clarity...I FUCKING HATE THE COLD.
So, this fine fucking morning I bundled myself up as much as I could...I got myself and the big dog into our truck... that seems to be held together right now by about 100 tons of salt.
And I started her up.
Lord...the sound that truck made as she screamed into -22 degrees...was bone chilling.
BUT I was bound and determined to take the big dog for a walk.
You see, we moved yesterday into another sublet in TO...and Tyson has been a bit shook up about it all...he is quite tender hearted and doesn’t like too much change...so he is drooling a lot...seriously, as soon as he lies down I put a towel under his jowly face...poor boy.
But walks always make him feel better.
So, I was determined.
He had his winter coat on after all...a coat we had to stretch and cut a bit to make it fit him...he is big boned...and some of you might remember that when we searched for a coat for him the first year we had him, the person at the pet store told us we would probably have to go to Horse World to find him a jacket.
Horse World.
Anyhow, the pup and I rode in the truck to the Brick Works...and after we got our shit together and parked and got out of the car, got the poop bags and the ball...he walked three steps and then raised two feet in the air...and was shaking and shaking...and let me tell you, that huge dog raising not one but two feet in the air is quite a feat of engineering.
It has been so long since we had needed boots for the pups that I had forgotten...Tdog is good till about minus 11, really.
So, back in the fucking car...we drove to Petsmart, Pet Times, Small Wonders and NONE of them had the boots we needed...and more than that, when I asked for boots they looked Tyson up and down and said they probably didn’t make boots that big...which made me mad...because people are even sizeist against my big boned dog’s feet.
Jesus Wept.
Pet Valu was our last hope...and yes...yes, bitch...they had them!!
BALLOON BOOTS!!!
So easy to put on and take off...right?

Well, by this time Tyson and I had ridden the truck all around the god damned city...he had gotten in and out about 6 times...and he was having none of it...I didn’t blame him really...I was ALSO having none of it...so, I had to actually climb in the back of the truck to get these friggen boots on him...and he was really making me work for it...so a pushed my Sorell boot against the car grill for leverage and my foot slipped and I found my self flying out of the back of the truck...onto the salt encrusted, slush covered, -22 degree pavement.
I just gave in and laid there...there just didn’t seem like any other choice at the time...I was actually a tiny sliver happy to be lying down...but as the slush leaked throught my pants I pulled myself up to sitting  and found myself staring at three Sobey’s employees who were all outside their store....WITHOUT COATS...smoking...and staring...at me on the ground...in the slush...and the salt...in a pool of what was left of my self respect.
They all stared at me as I stared at them...no one helping the other out...wait, THEY DIDN’T NEED HELP!! I WAS ON THE GROUND...thanks for the support humanity.
And, for the record, after I got Tyson in the boots and back to the Brick Works, about 2 hours later...he was so afraid that he is getting left behind (which is what happens to him when we move to a new place...god bless) that he took about 25 steps into the park and then walked back to the truck.

 

I fucking hate the cold.