Sunday, November 02, 2008


My gym is closed. Not for the day. Forever. I went yesterday and saw the place dark. A sheet of paper taped to the window read that "an impasse with the landlord" forced the closure.

I'm guessing the impasse centered on the landlord insisting that the gym owner continue to pay rent. I don't envy the property owner. Back in July, the restaurant next door to the gym went belly up. That space still sits empty. Except for the homeless bums who sit on the bench outside.

I'm not out any money even if the gym owner doesn't honor his promise to give a pro-rated refund to members. I was on a month-to-month plan. My problem is that now I don't have a place to work out.

I have some dumbbells here at home that I pulled out and used today but that's not a long-term solution. I can't do enough different exercises here, especially for legs. I probably have enough weights; I don't have enough room. In other places I've lived I got by with home workouts because I had more uncarpeted space.

As profusely as I sweat, if I work out in a room with carpeting, it will stink forever. If I have to steam clean or even replace the carpets before I try to sell this place someday, I want a better story than that to account for the need for it.

In most places I've lived, the bathroom could double as my workout room. Not here. Too small.

I don't want to join one of those chain gyms whose main business is not fitness but signing people to membership contracts. I'll figure something out eventually but I don't like the upset to my routine.

Especially when I have a bag-and-a-half of leftover Halloween candy that I will eventually consume myself. I got only a handful of visitors Friday night in my debut as a home owning junk food distributor on October 31.

One little girl showed up in a white dress with fake (I presume) blood smeared on her face. I asked what her costume was. "Bloody Mary," she said.

Two girls went from my house to one across the street while their mothers waited on the sidewalk on my side of the street. When the girls didn't return in a few minutes, one of their mothers called, "come on back. There's no candy in that house."

"I heard someone inside!" One of the girls called back.

I started laughing. "I know you're in there!" I said. "And I want my Snickers!" The mothers laughed with me.

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