Noodles at 1 a.m.
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.
COPYRIGHT MARY CROCCO 2013
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