Tuesday, February 5, 2013

Which voice do you prefer, 1st or 3rd?


Noodles at 1 a.m.

 

I haven’t touched my noodles in a couple of days and I missed them, but it’s 1 a.m.  What’s a gal to do?  The way they sometimes stuck to my fingers, and when hitting the water at an ideal 86 degrees; they slid right off into the anticipating liquid.

Lately, waking up between four-thirty and six-thirty in the evening was becoming an unwelcomed pattern. There was no exercising happening at the athletic club, which took its toll.  This dilemma needed to be corrected.

My sleep pattern had always been unpredictable and a work in progress. However, I always managed to get things done and slept when needed. But whenever it affected going to the pool, it presented a problem. The club is open 24/7, but to be honest, there was hesitation to go out in the middle of the night.  This was overcome tonight.

Dressed for the pool and walking out to my truck, half expecting to see a thug hanging around the parking lot. That wasn’t the case, but I quickly locked my door behind me.  Pulling into the main road and starting to laugh out loud at how easy it was to drive with no traffic was   amusing. Then butterflies took over - who would be exercising in the pool at 1 a.m.?

Turning into the parking lot, I counted the number of vehicles on both hands. Experiencing mixed feelings – nervousness to be alone, yet ecstatic to get my favorite parking spot. Being able to park anywhere in the front lot was always a delusion. The handicapped spaces were always taken, forcing a long drive around the side of the building to be able to make the walk. Laughing out loud again and I thought - what other crazy person would be out at this hour to exercise? This is crazy!

Treadmills enjoyed the rest, as I walked past hundreds of vacant machines, along with lifeless Karate and Zumba rooms. Again - mixed feelings – eerie to be alone, yet my loner personality roused. I glanced at the pool through a window and it looked like a Zamboni just left. Without question and relishing my 1 a.m. decision as the isolation and freedom to exercise without sharing was irresistible.

Dead silence filled the locker room and the lockers stood vacant. Following a routine of fitting my ear plugs and stepping on the scale, I walked out to the pool. A young woman in the spa and two guys enjoying the steam room was pool life at 1 a.m. Talk about liquid paradise . . . pure delight.

One of the club employees came to open the equipment room to get my noodles. He handed me two and my fingers stuck to them - I smiled and dropped them in water at an ideal 86 degrees; they slid right off into the anticipating liquid.
 
********OR**********
Noodles at 1 a.m.
 
 
Mary hadn’t touched her noodles in a couple of days and she missed them, but it was 1 a.m. What was a gal to do? The way they sometimes stuck to her fingers, and when they hit the water at an ideal 86 degrees; they slid right off into the anticipating liquid.
Lately, she woke up between four-thirty and six-thirty in the evening and it became an unwelcomed pattern. She wasn’t exercising at the athletic club, which took its toll.  Her dilemma needed to be corrected.
Mary’s sleep pattern had always been unpredictable and a work in progress. However, she always managed to get things done and slept when needed. But whenever it affected going to the pool, it presented a problem. The club was open 24/7, but she hesitated to go out in the middle of the night. She overcame this tonight.
Dressed for the pool she walked out to her truck, and half expected to see a thug hanging around the parking lot. That wasn’t the case, but she quickly locked her door.  Pulling into the main road she started to laugh out loud at how easy it was to drive with no traffic.  With butterflies in her stomach she wondered who would be exercising in the pool at 1 a.m.
Turning into the parking lot, she counted the number of vehicles on both hands. She experienced mixed feelings – nervous to be alone, yet ecstatic to get her favorite parking spot. Being able to park anywhere in the front lot was always a delusion. The handicapped spaces were always taken, forcing her to drive around the side of the building to be able to make the walk. Laughing out loud again she thought - what other crazy person would be out at this hour to exercise? This is crazy!
Treadmills enjoyed the rest, as she walked past hundreds of vacant machines, along with lifeless Karate and Zumba rooms. Again - mixed feelings – eerie to be alone, yet her loner personality roused. She glanced at the pool through a window and it looked like a Zamboni just left. Without question she relished her 1 a.m. decision as the isolation and freedom to exercise without sharing was irresistible.
Dead silence filled the locker room and the lockers stood vacant. Following a routine of fitting her ear plugs and stepping on the scale, she walked out to the pool. A young woman in the spa and two guys enjoying the steam room was pool life at 1 a.m. Talk about liquid paradise . . . pure delight.
One of the club employees came to open the equipment room to get Mary’s noodles. He handed her two noodles and her fingers stuck to them - she smiled and dropped them in water at an ideal 86 degrees; they slid right off into the anticipating liquid.
Please leave your preference and a comment! Thank you.
 
Mary :)

COPYRIGHT MARY CROCCO 2013