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it IS fun to stay at the YMCA!

January 20, 2005

I have a new addiction. Yes, it’s true. I’m addicted to the YMCA. I didn’t grow up near a YMCA, so since the song was pretty cheesy, I guess I just thought the Y had to be cheesy, too. Not so. The Y is great for several reasons.

#1 – Income-based membership. Does it get much better than this? Well, free would be unbelievable, but this really is the next best thing. I’ve decided to dub this “YMCA Welfare”. This means that since I make around $10,500 a year, I can work out at the Y for $27 a month, as apposed to $43. Full membership benefits included.

#2 – Showers with the best water pressure, EVER. Plus, the shower at the Y means my apartment’s water bill is lower.

#3 – The Y is not intimidating, like a gym. I can be chubby me and feel right at home. I’m not against really pretty, skinny, tan girls, but I do like that they are at an all time minimum at the Y. I’m much more comfortable working out next to soccer moms, even if they are 15 years older than me and in better shape.

#4 – This Wednesday’s workout provided me with a few more reasons to love the Y. This past Wednesday I found myself on the eliptical machine for 35 minutes, head phones on, tuned to American Idol. It is in the early stages of the show, which is the best part because you get to watch all these really bad singers who think they are really good. They think this mostly because their friends and family tell them they are good enough to be on the show. Clearly, these people need to get new friends and relatives. It was oddly enjoyable to be working out next to older generations and to join with them in laughing at my own. From the eliptical machine I moved on to 30 minutes on the treadmill, next to girl, probably a little younger than me, who has down’s syndrom. She asked me where I got my radio. My radio is new. It’s about 2 inches by 2 inches and is only an FM radio with a scan function. I told her that I got it for one dollar at Walmart. She thought it was the coolest thing ever, and we talked for a bit while walking. Honestly, the radio is piece of junk. But her approval of it gave it so much worth. She was a great reminder to me of all that I have been given, and I am grateful for her presence. As I left the Y she was leaving with the friend that she had come with, a pretty, skinny, blonde haired girl a little older than me, and I was grateful for all that she had been given, too.

“…our brokenness reveals something about who we are. Our sufferings and pains are not simply bothersome interruptions of our lives; rather, they touch us in our uniqueness and our most intimate individuality. The way I am broken tells you something unique about me. The way you are broken tells me something unique about you.”

Henri Nouwen [Life of the Beloved]

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