Stylin' Gym Gear

As anyone who has the mixed blessing of being my "friend" on Facebook knows, one of the first things I did upon returning to Paris, was to renew my membership at the local Club Med Fitness Club (what I had been referring to confidently as "la gym" until today, when Nolwenn, our improvisations class teacher, gently informed me that going to "la gym" had definite connotations involving female gymnastics and for me to say I had gone to "la gym" was at best creepy, maybe even sort of pervy; le sigh) for another 3 months. In an effort to use public shaming as a mechanism to get myself to go, I have been providing a daily update on my progress over on Facebook. Mercifully, I will spare you the details here.

French fitness clubs don't seem substantially different from their American counterparts; it is a relief to ascertain that sweaty French people are no more or less elegant than sweaty Americans. Representation of the sexes is very different in the Paris gym, not as overwhemingly male as in the Castro - no surprises there. There is a certain amount of low-level flirting in both places, but for the most part people concentrate on their exercises.

In general, I wear one of several nondescript old Genentech T-shirts to the gym. Because, after working there for 17 years, my supply of old Genentech T-shirts is entirely inexhaustible. Seriously; I'm sure any of my former colleagues can relate. That place gave out T-shirts as if they were M 'n M's -- all you had to do was sneeze and you'd get one. Recently, however, for reasons that were almost entirely laundry-related, I found myself compelled to don two of what I consider to be my klassier T-shirts. Certainly two of my favorite T-shirts; I think you will understand why:

I am happy to report that both of these shirts, but the first in particular*, provoke a much more interesting** level of chit-chat with other gym-goers. Thanks are due to Katie and Adam for the first and to Katie's mom, Paddy, for the second.

*: about 50% of people who comment on it appear to do so for cat-loving reasons (nothing wrong with that); about 50% actually seem to GET THE JOKE (a pretty useful filter right there)

**: compare to some random, double-helixy, generic Genentech shirt.

For the record, I was doing very well in closing in on my 21 days gym-going to imprint those positive neuronal behavioral pathways when Satan, the prince of darkness, threw a spanner in the works by having one of his vile minions sneeze on me in the metro, thereby giving me the COLD FROM HELL; however, I got back in the saddle (literally, of the stationary bike) on Friday and am 6 for 6 this week, and I promise never to bring this up again in the blog, because it seems as if I obsess about nothing else already on Facebook.