Making of a Gym Rat

People have told me that I should write a book with all of the stories I have. I always laugh and say "yeah, someday maybe I will." How many times have you either said or heard that?
Afterall, everyone has stories. Everyone, has got something to say. Who has the time to write a book?

Any how, my story begins 7 years ago...actually really 23.5 years ago. When I was a little tyke going to watch on the sidelines as my mom went and jumped around like a maniac. Not that she was the only one. There were at least 30-40 other ladies just like her. 30 somethings, brightly printed leotartds and leggings with thick socks, head bands, big hair devouring the headbands of course, and it was that typical "Jane Fonda" aerobics at the local community center.
I guess you could say my fascination began there.

I would watch and try and do all of the grapevines and pivot turns on the side of the gym floor. I had little visions and hopes that I too could do that someday. I wanted to lead the parade of insanity with loud music and women coming to exercise with full makeup and fighting over "their spot."

So, that being said... my mom dropped me into dance classes so that I could take my first steps into organized movement. By the time I was 11, I was competing in amateur dance competitions and going to aerobics everyday with my mother. I too became part of the parade of insanity, even wore the outfits.

It was not until the age of 21, when I needed a major change in my life, did I seek out a career in this addictive industry. I say addictive because it attracts obsessive compulsive lunatics, alcoholics, steroid users, coke heads, nympho maniacs and anyone else that is egocentric, type A control freaks who are driven by vanity. Not to say that everybody fits into this cookie cutter. But, 90 percent of the people frequenting your local meat market, not excluding the staff of course, would definitely fit into that mold. So, what's the appeal you might ask... It makes for an interesting ride with plenty of scenery.