Keeping the Balance.

I have always struggled with what is and what if. It was consistently a challenge, still is. to be in the present. My projection, fear, anxiety, and restlessness to live my faith always calls on me before I remember the power of God's promises and His faithfulness.

As a young "Jesus People" Christian, armored with my Bible and Keith Green, I praised God in many forms from charismatic to liturgical, picked and sang country gospel in my mega church. and raised my hands in worship too many times to count. I probably got saved about a dozen times, even got dunked in a Baptist church, moved to England to study at L'Abri, a wonderful Christian study center in England. That was all part of my indoctrination to evangelical Christianity. And I don't regret that because I feel secure in my relationship with Christ. But not so secure anymore with the right wing politics and homophobia that stirs the evangelicals. And for a Gay man, it is ying and yang, oxymoron heaven, but ultimately spiritual death. .

So I don't do church anymore, but have had to find ways to ignite my spiritual fire. Even in the depths of evangelical fever, I investigated alternative energies and played around with the human potential movement. I had my time with est, and Lifespring, dazzled in psychodrama, and Scientology, and even had a guru for a spell who was going to help me find knowledge  And I went through painful  rolfing sessions for spiritual clarity , as well as attempting to discover my birth trauma in another process. Mr.Cannabis was my best friend.

I learned from them all, but ultimately, what I have found is the process of being still is the gift. I discovered Transcendental Meditation, in the 70's, paid the fee, took the white handkerchief and flowers to the initiation. Getting my mantra was so special, that I forgot it immediately  when I  walked out of the door of the TM center. When I called the center, they would not repeat my mantra on the phone, so I had to drive down to the center to get mantra whispered in my ear. Turns out my friends all had the same mantra.

But meditation has become part of my routine. Using my mantra or not, meditating on a scripture, a problem, a thought, or just being silent for 30 minutes is so calming and centering that I have thought of taking a vacation at the TM village to experience other techniques. It is that process of letting go in the meditation that presents me with a more accepting and calming spirit. 

Even Trace the cat, enjoys the morning meditation, sitting serenely on my lap purring as I connect
 with his alpha state. He also knows it is treat time afterwards, so maybe he is just doing his feline seduction act.  The results allow me to make healthier food choices, which propels me to continue at the gym, following a regime that is working. Some recent health challenges have encouraged me to embrace this health process. In recovery, they always say that recovery is a process not an event. So be it with this old dawg. I feel often like I am just arriving.

"Soul blading"---the season begins

"Old man, I bet you cannot in line skate" said the younger, cocky counselor, my employee at Oakview Treatment Center in 1989. Back then in line skating or "rollerblading as we called it" was the bomb. Everyone and their brother, especially on the west coast was buying these skates that required no skate key, and the wheels were different from the roller skates we had as kids. I put on those skates rolled around the parking lot, heroin addicted/cocaine infused/alcohol dependent patients all looking at me with an odd belligerence until the claps at the end prompted a bow of appreciation. I knew I had found it- something that I could do in athletics where I felt secure. I went out that night and bought my first pair of in line skates, and I have never regretted that decision.

In the 80's and early 90's it was easy to roller blade- parking lots, streets, light rail stops and Loch Raven Reservoir, every Saturday and Sunday closed up sections just for rollerbladers. I was there many Sundays, zapping down hills, speeding around corners, with knee pads, helmets, water bottles and an attitude of "I can accomplish anything".  I enjoyed the skating camaraderie, embraced my fellow sports enthusiasts who got the adrenaline rush of blading, and the aerobic benefits.

But like many things, in line skating became pretty unhip. Parking lots posted no roller blading or skate boarding signs, cops started kicking me out of places that were once friendly and Saturday and Sunday drivers took over Loch Raven, and the in line skating stores all closed except for some large sporting goods stores which kept the product for us hangers on. But I continued the rollerblading quest long before the gym and my current workout pattern became a part of my fitness need.

In line skating offers me a different sort of experience now. It is just part of what I do, whether it is at 2 am on a hot summer August night, 11 am Saturday NPR  listening and skating, or after work when I skate to burn out some angst and anxiety. It has now been 20 years since I started skating again. Oh, I certainly skated a lot in the 50's before NPR, before my anxiety disorder appeared, and before signs were posted steering me away. I always lost my skate key, and those damn old time roller skates would fall off many times speeding down a hill and I would be forced to grab hold of some Edsel to protect myself from the asphalt. . I loved skating back then, but I was probably more fond of my bike.

Usually when I roller blade, I put on my headphones, and listen to country music, ( I use that term loosely, as most country music is just silly pop music) or NPR. My skates and I have become very fond of Terri Gross, Wait Wait, Michael Feldman, Studio 360, Car Talk, All Things Considered and all the others. I will not skate during Prairie Home Companion because I find that show jumped the shark years ago, and my idea of real Hell is having to listen to Garrison Keilor sing hymns.   And I find other stations to listen to when WYPR is money begging.  But after my 45 minutes of skating, I am happy, joyous and free. Well, I can't got that far, but I am at peace. I skate from March to early October. I would do it all year but skating over dead leaves and ice is problematic for me..

Sometimes I find that when I am skating if I am particularly anxious that the 45 minute session becomes a catalyst for me to expel my anger and I find that all kinds of emotions arise- anger, fear, loneliness, regret,shame. It does not scare me but I always allow those endorphins to do what they need to do. It is great for my anxiety disorder which can get fed by the slightest nod of indecision.

A few years ago, I was at the Lite Rail stop at Warren Road in Cockeysville, MD, skating away listening to Dierks Bentley, happy camper and a police car pulled up with one of Maryland's finest driving.  Cute cop, about 23 got out of the car, buffed and angry- a combination I really needed at that point. He told me to halt, and then asked me" Is is difficult to roller blade" I told him how easy it was and how it had really helped me." He said he had a young son and thought maybe it would be a fun thing to do. No attitude, a nice guy. I offered to let him try, but he backed away from that offer and told me to have a nice day. As he was driving away, he rolled down his window and said to me " If feels good to see an old guy like you rollerblading, it really does "  I smiled and in my mind I was kicking the shit out of his parole car. But in retrospect a 63 year old is an old man to a "steroided" cocky cop.

Sometimes I get all settled to roller blade, put my headphones on and discover that the batteries are shot on my clock/ headphone/ radio.  I have learned to adjust. I have a few Cd's that I know the approximate length, Cd's I know well like Jackson Browne's," Late for the Sky "or Jennifer Warnes,  "Jennifer",  produced by John Cale,an album that went out of print in 73 and is just now being re released.. When this happens I have been known to sing the entire CD loudly as I skate around the Warren Road Lite Rail . I know every chord of some of these albums, so I know I am pretty close to skating close to the actual  time of the album. I always skate at least 40 minutes.

Also, if the headphones are not an option, and I do not in line skate with my IPhone, because a fall could mean death to my IPhone, I will pray. Yes, pray, and pray hard. I have been known to have 45 minute prayer sessions, a real good way to feel closer to Christ, and to keep my prayer chops going. For me some of my most sacred times with God are when I am outside rollerblading and feeling that need to open up to HIM. I cherish those times.

One day after a great session, I threw my Trident bubblegum on the asphalt, got in my Toyota and drove . The next day, I returned, put on my skates and  boldly stated over the dried up pink gum which send me sailing through the air, hitting my head on a car bumper, scraping my knees and somehow getting a black eye. Proudly, I picked myself up in pain, cursed like a sailor, threw the gum away in  trash receptacle and sailed on rollerblading bleeding and happy.

Lately, I have combined rollerblading with dancing, weights and  aerobic moves, a combination of psychic angst and real work. It is not easy doing Arnold lifts, while skating around listening to pump it up music. I call it soul blading, similar to the soul cycling movement that is so current.  It is so amazing to me how much fun I have being creative with the skates, although, the negative, condescending looks that some people transmit to me baffle me. The other day, when one overweight man gave me a most despicable look and verbal negative comment, , I yelled out at him, " Hey buddy, maybe you should try this and you wouldn't have a size 44waist and man boobs like Dolly Parton." He was ready to strike but thought better because I had the 10 pound dumb bells in my hand and a don't fuck with me look in addition

Life is good and I am grateful every day that my buddy JR challenged me in 1989 to roller blade. It was the best gift! I would love other folks to release their inner "blader".

Testosterone....Reviving the Man...

This picture should be captioned, "Testosterone lies" but it is what is it. Testosterone does not lie.  Here is my scoop on testosterone. I never thought much about testosterone, but I always got that mine must not be that strong, because Dwayne "The Rock"Johnson" I am not. And naturally I heard the whole jive about steroid use, testosterone, human growth hormones, and watched Chris Cuomo or one of those reporters on various specials about steroids. I never did steroids. Well, that's a lie. I did buy some Winstrol, Clenbuterol, and Deca online in the 80;s, but had not been to a gym in a year, and some roid boy, instructed me over Prodigy how to do the deed. Luckily, I had enough sense to know that I was very close to the madness and stopped after bruising and a 10 pound weight gain brought me home.


 But for me, I was an average gay man "trudging the road of happy destiny" Oh God, just  bring out the Rod McKuen books so we can " "Listen to the Warm". My sex life was adequate , and will not be revealed in this family friendly blog, loved the Lord, and was lukewarm about the gym. I was a busy, professional man with lots of friends with big hearts, and grand smiles and I started to get real angry.
Not type A angry, which I know all too well, but this overriding sense of doom, dread, worry, and being totally uncomfortable in my skin. This was a gradual slide, but for about 6 or 7 years, I noticed my zest for life diminished, and the passion I once embraced was dead. I even packed up my guitar, and stopped socializing, making excuses. The only passion that kept me going was in line skating because I loved the endorphin kick in and for that hour every day I kind of felt like the old me.  And if you cut me off on the beltway, the fickle finger of fate was revealed enthusiastically. I hated the sound of the dishwasher...Crazy.

I was a very odd kid, precocious, but innocent at the same time. I worried about the Bay of Pigs," duck and tuck", injustices in the world, but kept lots of my kid angst to myself. I worried too much. I watched this series , The Medic" with Richard Boone, the first of the medical series, where the dramatic emphasis was the disease and the psychological results. This one episode had a woman who had to have a colostomy, and I remember to this day her screams. " I don't want to look like a freak, I can't have  a colostomy and wear a bag" as Richard Boone comforted her stiffly. . After 2 nights of tossing and turning, I revealed to my parents, that I was worried about having to have a colostomy. I was 7. They listened, they comforted, and suggested that The Medic may not be age appropriate, but I watched. I also recognized at 7 years old that my worry had so much to do with selfishness, and the inability to get of my own head. I kept that information filed away.

Anxiety rapes you of your delight, sours you on other"s hopes, and claims and validates your fears. So about 3 years ago, I started having panic 24 hours a day, controlled, consistent panic and fear. Not panic attacks, but a kind of Generalized Anxiety Disorder, No phobias, agoraphobia or any of that, just so uncomfortable in my own skin. In line skating was the only thing that helped, and even then I was still anxious. My psychiatrist prescribed Celexa it was the proper choice because no more horrible anxiety within 2 days, but still fatigued, lost of interest, no passion, and watching lots of Bravo TV shows all weekend. I was so grateful the SSRI worked. But I knew something and that was that  I was still in life trouble.  So, I decided that I had to go to the gym, and maybe that would wake me up.

Right about this time, my PCP doctor Dr, Mark Lamos, the best, suggested that perhaps I was not crazy, but had low testosterone. I had the blood work and my level was 167 or something ridiculous. He prescribed Androgel, a name that is becoming familiar on TV, but that gel did nothing but raise my T level to 400, still not very high. I may have even felt a bit more even, but " My give a damn was still busted"  We tried gel alternatives,  Then I discovered Twitter and started  looking for working out tips, and low T advice. A body builder named Kevin Levrone contacted me to suggest that I may be interested in Testosterone pellets, which are bioidenticals (* Testopel)_planted in your butt.  I was desperate because I wanted to feel positive , have wild sex, and create passion again. Kevin, who I don't know well, is a man of great integrity, and I somehow trusted him from our first phone conversation. I took his advice and have been a patient at www.lifeforcemd.com for a year now.

Today, my Testosterone level is 1200, and I feel like me again. . I got my guitar out, have actually played for some folks ( country music) have become a gym fanatic, dating and got my sex mojo back,, and hanging out with the many woman I love, but don't have sex with. What can I say. And I just feel comfortable in my own skin. I wake up and feel like there is an adventure or that i have the potential to create a daring adventure.  Men, get your t level checked. At 65, I do feel about 40 years old..  Life is good. I will be retiring in a year or two and I want to be in a spiritually, emotionally and physically ready to take that step to the last frontier.

Accountability Avenue

I am a guy who mostly fit in-never abused or bullied. You know, the guy in your class who was a little bit odd, but smart enough that you left him alone.Some of you maybe were that guy. And I was the President of the Class. The girls really liked me, and the men who lived on the edge always sensed that I lived on the edge but,  I didn't know it. "They liked me, they really liked me"

Sorry for the Sally Field moment. But the Oscars are Sunday. I had Academy Award parties for years in the 70's and 80's- Quaaludes and Tequila. wonderful pastry,  and a personal day from work the next day...a tradition. Now, it is Melba toast, salsa and hummus,a good novel, and I get the Oscar News from NPR  Morning Edition. I sometimes think I am becoming my father.

  I was the guy who snuck off to foreign films at the 5 West Theatre, where they served coffee in tasteful tea cups, and popcorn was not an option. I was the guy who went to the Debutante's Ball and smoked pot in my car listening to Phil Ocks protests. . I was that guy who your mother thought was OK, but who was sneaking you out  to Gay bars with underage cards, I was really a big part of your problem.LOL. No, you had your stuff. But I loved you in spite of it.

  I was not that innocent; although, the world thought I was OK, preppy little Student Council President, with a secret life.  And for the most part I was amused, but mostly conveniently isolated. It worked for many years.  Now I am a senior citizen. I don"t really like old people. I find them annoying, silly, embarrassing.  I don't think I am old. I am not wearing Bermuda Shorts up around my tits, or feeling this need to move to Florida, or spending mega bucks on Viagra. I never played golf in my life. Old entitled old people  annoy the Hell out of me. I may have to kill myself before I have to wear Depends. Maybe,  I should just go buy a package, run around my apartment with them on, perhaps have an exposure therapy moment with a Depends party,  and just be done with it. .

But feeling stifled in self  has taken it's vengeance. Not feeling good at the beach, accepting mirrors of self defeat,, living in "what if "instead of "what is" is self defeating ,So today,  I tackle this body improvement challenge with openness and realism. This challenge is not only a Bucket List but a need. I am not looking to be a body builder, although I admire the body builders I have met and their focus is so damn contagious, I would like to savor every nectar from their body building mind that  would zap me with their intent and focus in a healthy productive altruistic  way. Now that just sounded like a Rod Mckuen song. I hate to embarrass myself. Where are the fucking Anita Kerr singers?

Twitter is great...lots of knowledge and experience. I eat that up. I am eating clean, have a workout/aerobic routine, and spiritually....need some help there, Pretty angry with evangelical Christianity, a big part of my past.  Long story, another entry.

But my whole intent of this entry is about my self defeating behavior. I have made an agreement with myself and my cat, Trace, that for the next year, I would make my intention to be the best that I can be physically, emotionally and spiritually. Oh, yea, I did include God, who I am really not that sure about anymore in this contract....fake it until you make it.

So what I have done, is made a list of all the self defeating, arrogant, entitled, justified, minimized, victimized reasons not to go to the gym. So every day,  one of these damn reasons services. This list is attached to my fridge, and when one of those reasons comes up, I thank it, check it off on the list and go to the damn gym. Thank you est and Werner Erhard for that one. . So here is my list. It feels fantastic to be accountable

Reasons Not To Go The Gym

1. I am too old to be working this hard
2. It doesn't matter anyhow, you gotta go somehow
3. I need a nap, then I will go to the gym
4. You're becoming a Narcissist
5. I don't feel like it,maybe I am sick I deserve to just chill.
6 I am just too anxious to go to the gym, I couldn't focus.
7 I need a day off because I am older and need to be careful
8 I will get up tomorrow morning, tonight I will relax
9 I just don't have enough time in the day. If I go now,it will be too late to eat dinner
10. This is just another uncompleted challenge. Forget about it
11 I don't notice that much change in my body -I have poor genetics,so all this work is pointless
12 I am in a bad mood. I'll eat something and go when my mood is better
13 People are gonna think you are bizarre-serious weight lifting at my age.
13 Fuck weight training today, I want to eat an entire pizza
14 The gym closes in 45 minutes and that is rushing it
15 The gym is extremely crowded now, I'll
go later in the day

So far, so good.

Diet Madness...

Today, I eat clean...relatively clean. I eat no white products...sugar, white flour, white potatoes, rice and combine protein and complex carbohydrates and vegetables. I do take a cheat day, not a cheat week, but one day where I eat what I want. Problem is now that I am eating clean,I choose not to  break the chain of success by stuffing a Big Mac in my mouth, or devouring a bag of Cheetos because it' s cheat day. I confess, I am a sushi addict, so often for lunch I have a California roll, with white rice, not totally clean, but on the road to nirvana..yea right.

But I am far from perfect about my food. Folks at work are always bringing in tasty junk food, and since I have my focus mojo on I have not surrendered to the gooey pastries and the fresh pumpkin bread. I don't like taking steps backward, and a garlic bagel would start the obsession of self defeat, and I would be ordering Domino's and Indian Curry at gym time, guarding my right to eat whatever the fuck I wanted. And I would  munch out for a bit until it was uncomfortable to work because the pounds of self defeat had attached themselves to my ass.

I do well with rituals, and creating a daily eating ritual is working well. I know that I have to eat to build some muscle, and follow the eating clean plan, and I will be fine. Cooking is more of a challenge because every damn thing I cook tastes the same....overripe with curry or hot sauce, and so onion heavy. I need to get some information from my Twitter followers or folks I follow, because there is so much good clean eating information out there that I will  absorb.

I am eating clean because I finally figured out such a complex issue. I can go to the gym all I want, in line skate for an hour every sunny summer day, go elliptical manic, but if I am eating shit, my body will respond to it, and I will see no gains. My connection to diet, lifting and gains is fresh, but I truly am excited to see what goals I can achieve at this ripe young age of 65.

Oh, yea, I must interject here a snippet of my diet past, which literally never embraced food/workout connection, so I just tried every fad diet that came down the pike. Jenny Craig- did it, Weight Watchers- tried it, Nutrisystems, that one also. With Nutrisystems, came two gigantic UPS packages.
Now, I live in a one bedroom suburban  apt complex that is cheap and has the maintenance team from Hell. There was so much food in these boxes, that I had no room in my kitchen for my dishes which were all over  the apartment. Thank God "Hoarders" was not around because  I would have been recruited.  I stopped that one and put my dishes back, I still cannot find my can opener from those two months of terror.

Then, there was the diet where I ate brussels sprouts and American Cheese every morning. I do not like cheese except on pizza and Lasagna, and I will not eat a cheeseburger. My father always thought that I was a kook for despising Cheddar Cheese, but Cheetos was my comfort food. He joked with me about this "cheese thing"  a few days before he died. I actually enjoyed the repartee, because he had a great sense of humor and his belief that I was weird cemented our relationship is an odd, loving way.The first morning I ate the brussels sprouts and American cheese, I projectile vomited over my old cat, Christopher. Stopped that one . Christopher was not amused.

And the Phoenix Fiber Cookie Diet. I was so sold of this one, I never told anyone. With this one I ate these fiber oatmeal cookies, 6 times a day, nothing else. Guaranteed to lose weight ,no money back.  So I purchased these miracle cookies at the Health Food Store from the pale zombie like worker. Notice how people in health food stores look so unhealthy?  And I lost lots of weight- 40 pounds. I  looked like a suffering,starving  Third World country person--sunken chest, rips showing, gray color, One of my coworkers was so concerned she asked me when I was diagnosed with HIV. That got my attention, no HIV, but obviously, there was some body dysmorphia going on.  I ate a monster  burger and fries that day and enjoyed every minute.
The Phoenix Cookie was a scam and the feds removed them from the market for false advertising and a fat content that off the wall.

So eventually diets have stopped because they are only temporary. Took me a long time to realize that. I like that weight lifting, the gym, the focus, the goal ,the camaraderie and the sense that I am doing something positive. I may retire soon, and this gym will become even more important to me as well as my in line skating. I do believe that the true  natural  bodybuilders connect the emotional, spiritual and physical of the sport as most great athletes do.  If I am eating clean, working out, doing aerobics, resting, praying, meditating and staying positive, this renewed interest in health will continue to manifest remarkable  rewards.

Personal Trainers...

This whole business of personal training I will never understand for me. I was not a good client, excuses, aloofness, self consciousness, just a marvelous kind of guy to train. The disdain of  having to be  physical after working a 12 hour day soured my expression like I was smelling rancid microwave popcorn.

 I should not talk about popcorn. It is a slippery place for me, even though I eat it air popped with Old Bay Seasoning, still slippery, like an alcoholic sitting alone at a bar in a local watering hole,  having a tuna fish sandwich and a Dr Pepper .

 But  back to personal training, I did not succeed at investing in a personal trainer, because I was unwilling to invest in myself. I was feeling guilty for  not working out, and choosing health.
I paid the money to be there, but  I was not really invested. I don't blame those guys

I think the trainers could see it....just another guy who purchased the ticket but won't even get on the plane. "So we will do the minimal with this guy".I just was unmotivated, and depressed - really depressed, anti depressant depressed and so freaking anxious. And I had no clue, and I was a therapist, licensed, certified, genuine, helper but I couldn't see my own stuff. And in late 2010 I did.
___   ___   ___

But I went to many gyms, and often they offered the services of a personal trainer, who was usually a cute little guy in a blue shirt, carrying a clipboard.  Usually these guys were very wholesome, "Mormonesque" types with  big smiles, 8 dollar an hour hearts. The point is they were not trainers, maybe, they would become trainers. They were novices, I was polite and distant and usually did the routine on my own, until my card filled up. Then I joined another gym.

I had one gal, about 87 pounds, spoke in a little girl voice. I was always been highly concerned with that Kristen Chenowith voice...Something not right in Kansas. And she was anorexic. I wondered as I sat at the Lat Pull Down at yet another  gym, " Why would a gym have an anorexic personal trainer"  She did not return on my second visit. I just hope she went to a reputable eating disorder clinic.

Oh, another guy, texted and bit his pudgy fingernails the whole time he was with me. He was an unpleasant melody of self doubt and apathy . One day, as I was moaning doing his version of squats, he asked me for a pencil. My ass was half way to the floor. "And I thought, I am paying you and you asked me for a pencil: Being the nice evangelical Christian I was, I stopped, ass almost to linoleum, and got a pencil out of my gym bag so he could record my sets.  I never went back to him,


And then I met a personal trainer. I put an ad in City Paper, for a trainer, and a guy answered my ad,
It was a guy named Tim Wittman, We met at the Mount Washington Tavern in Baltimore, and chatted about my goals and what he expected, and how we would worked. We clicked. I finally felt like I was heard. I told him my body dysmorphic concerns, my apathetic couch potato habits, and my concerns that my wants had not become needs in terms of being fit. I realized that he was a respected indoor Soccer Player from the Blasts and he was doing this for extra cash.

This guy showed me focus, thinking positive, staying present, and setting visualization goals. It was not what he said, it was his actions and my connection with him. We worked together a few months,  His total commitment to fitness, and his enthusiasm was so charismatic, that I stayed focused for a 4 months.

I also worked with the Body for Life Program in the 90's- sent my before and after pictures in. I improved a lot ot  because I felt I had a goal, and a community to work with. I looked better, but stopped because of my own ability to set real priorities for myself, and my unwillingness to believe that I count. Now, I sound like a public service announcement.. The truth is I am a lazy fuck.

I am on Twitter, and I am following many committed body builders, and other health practitioners, and I am seeing transformation internally, and much more willingness to do whatever I have to do. I probably will not use personal trainers. I am a loner, a Virgo, a strange dude, love being by myself, so for me a trainer may be a distraction. I am open though.  I do know where to find the best.
,


.

Gym Intimidation

I guess I better chat about gym intimidation. Kind of embarrassed about the whole process, but I am writing a blog, so why not put it out there.

I was never intimidated about much. I take that back. I was intimidated by math tests, especially the ones that had word problems. I would get so flustered in elementary and junior high that often a blank piece of paper got handed in. I would go into a flurry of anxious hyperbole when I saw those questions, and hated those problems about the trains going in two different directions.  I conquered that fear by teaching children who have math problems, so they did not  have to face the intimidation and anxiety I felt. It was a blessing to help some little anxious kid work through the intimidation and have that " I got it moment" Once those kids let go of that fear, they were fine with math.

Other than that, stuff didn't intimidate me. I have bungee jumped, rafted, in line skated to exhausting speeds, ran addiction  groups in hard core prisons, played and sang my country music in different venues, gave speeches to other health care professionals...been out there.  But something about a gym, always brought that " I have no idea what I am doing feeling" out in full force. I would look at those weights, instantly become defeated, insecure, and tired. I also had the unique experience of developing a headache every time I entered a gym

So hear is a bit of my experiences. The list is endless, but I will snippet this.

Holiday Health Spa- After college, I was a young school teacher who wanted to look good and feel vital , so naturally joining a gym was on target. The health craze, generation of me, pumped body was now just becoming a little main stream at that point,so I joined the spa. Men could come on Tues, Thurs and Sat, and the gym had only free weights.

I was a young 21, just coming out and confused about my own sexuality. Naturally, there was a screaming body builder queen who insisted on calling this confused Christian boy, sweetie. I would get all flustered. None of the straight body builders seem to mind him because they just laughed at him or with him, and I just blushed.  And I also had no idea what to do with the weights, and the trainers were really membership hookers, so they were useless to me. I stayed there about a year, mostly out of guilt and a contract.

Actually over the years,  I joined Holiday 3 times, stayed awhile and drifted away, never blaming the health spa, but recognizing my gym insecurity . After my workout at Holiday Spa Rt 40 I would have a protein shake, hamburger and fries at the cafe in the courtyard,  Back then, diet did not seem to be a priority and we all know it starts in the kitchen.

Nautilus This was going to be it. Somewhere in the 70's, although my memory of the 70's is pretty dull, as most of my days were spent listening to Merle Haggard and smoking dope....Yea, I listened to the music at the time., but country music was my scene. Growing up in an upper middle class section of Baltimore, where debutante balls,lacrosse games, society gatherings and Hunt Club races were the norm for me my parents were amused by my love for hillbilly and folk music, although my mother always thought Judy Collins had a wonderful voice.
There was a song written by Bob Dylan called "The Lonesome Death Of Hattie Carroll" about the senseless death of a maid at a dinner event, Hattie Carroll, but a drunken society guy names William Zanzinger.  My parents forbid me to play that song around my grandfather because he was friends with the Zanzingers. I played it 24 hours a day, as  I did the original Broadway HAIR album. My father was not amused!

Back on track. I thought Nautilus was going to save my life. It was a circuit training of 23 exercises and you went around the track once, and  boom you became Dennis Newman, who was a big bodybuilder at the time. I knew I had a problem when they would not let go zip around the circuit
more than once. I asked them once. Is this how Dennis Newman got to be so awesome?They were probably happy I did not return.

The other thing was I was at a bar with a buddy, and one of the trainers ( salesman) at that Nautilus off Joppa Road called my buddy a faggot. I approached him, told him that his attitude did not fare well for the business and managed to get the asshole fired. This was years before gay liberation or before human right people were labeled "gay agenda"

Power House  I got a 2 week free pass to this place, and it had great equipment, rock music playing,
people really pumping iron and massive "steroided "masterpieces. I went for one session and knew that I would not be returning.
Looking at myself standing next to these giants was humorous, but deflating. It did not take much to not return there. Those guys scared the shit out of me, but they did look good. :)

Gold's Gym  Some years ago in Timonium, there was a Gold's gym, and loved the place. For some reason by now, a mere 30 year after Holiday House I was less intimidated by the gym, I actually did do Bill Phillips= Body for Life, and thought it was an excellent program. I actually felt like I could parade around the beach, but I stopped Body for Life in January and by June, I thought I was beginning to look like the Pillsbury Dough Boy. Bill Phillips and some others really got me motivated to get fit, but this gym became a germ infested Hell Hole, I stayed as long as I could, fearing I would walk out of there with MERSA or staph infection  That gym closed and many of us traveled to other local gyms.

Merritt  I was going to a Planet Fitness but it was bit too far, and then a Merritt opened just down the street from my house. It has saved my life, friendly staff, open 24 hours, good gym equipment, body builders who smile, people serious about working out and not socializing. I feel home. Thank you Merritt at Cranbrook, After 30 years of being gym intimidation I don't feel so nerdy, and I feel like I will have the body I want if I choose to do the work, and not fall into a victim mentality, which I am sad to say has been a part of this process.

Merritt, and my bodybuilder friends on Twitter, have given me permission to not try, just do it, and my journey of trying is over. I am going to do this thing,  By this June, I will  not be at my best, but I will be OK to show my stuff at Rehobeth" and be proud of who I am" , because I will not brand myself with  lazy, weak or intimidated. 

Next entry, personal trainers.....