As a collegiate athlete at a big state school, I often find myself floating around in a little athletic bubble. I wake up early in the morning in a dorm that typically houses other athletes, go for a morning run with my teammates, lift in the basement of our fieldhouse, go to classes, return to the fieldhouse for an afternoon run or workout, rehab in the athletic training room, eat meals with my teammates, and spend any breaks in my classes studying at the building that is home to our athletics counseling program.
So now that I'm home for the summer, I find myself back amongst the non-athletic regular people (or NARPs, as we so fondly call them). One place where this change of pace is particularly noticeable is my gym: a very inclusive YMCA in the next town over. As someone who considers herself to be very health conscious, I love seeing people of all ages and fitness levels working out in the same place, but I can't help but wonder if they think I'm a little crazy. Here are a few of my workout habits that have garnered the attention of my fellow gym-goers:
The Sweating - I've been injured for about two months now, so I've been biking in place of running. In an effort to keep my heart rate up and mimic the effects of running 7+ miles, I tend to go pretty hard. About five minutes into my biking sessions, sweat is dripping out of every pore in my body, collecting in puddles on the ground. By the end, you would think that there was some sort of leak in the ceiling right above the spin bike area from how much has accumulated. My greatest fear is that my sweat droplets will fly off my body at the perfect angle and hit some poor unsuspecting runner on the adjacent treadmill.
The Faces - All of my friends are familiar with the classic Haley running face, and apparently it is not limited to just running, as I often catch people staring at my scrunched up face, contorted from effort and pain.
The Pool Running - Quite possibly one of the strangest things us runners do is pool run - mimicking the motions of running in the water with our feet never touching the bottom. I've gotten several concerned looks from the lifeguards and seasoned swimmers with their fancy caps and goggles. Yes, I am pumping my arms and legs furiously to keep my upper body above the water, no, I am not drowning.
The Weights - I don't think I'll ever not feel awkward and out-of-place when lifting among guys benching well over 200 pounds, but I have gotten the occasional "Wow, are you training for a Tough Mudder?" So maybe I don't look as clueless as I feel.
The Hours Spent - I can't run much while I'm still recovering from my injury, so I find myself at the gym far more often than any normal person should. Sometimes I'm there twice in one day, and other times I just go once but stay for upwards of two and a half hours. I can now identify all the regulars and can count myself among them. I think one of the personal trainers thinks I'm nuts because I see him whenever I go - whether it's at 6:30 in the morning or five in the afternoon.
To be honest, I think every runner (and probably any athlete, for that matter) secretly loves being called "crazy," but nonetheless, I'm excited to get back to being a full time land runner.
