No, that's not a statement of delight. Tonight, MMM stands for Minor Maggie Meltdown. It only gets really confusing when I use the same abbreviation for a Major Maggie Meltdown.
I was at the gym, working my as off (and may I say I'm quite dismayed every time I work it off and BAM, it's right back there where it was?) Anyhoo, did 40 minutes on the elliptical, 40 minutes on the bikes. a good portion of stretching, and then hit the weights.
Now, I love my gym, so imagine my dismay when, for the first time since I started going there, I got "the look." Most of the time, people are so engrossed in what they're doing, they don't even notice anyone else. But over by the free weights, today it was different. Most people smiled, if they maintained eye contact at all, but there was this one guy I saw in the mirror ... first of all, what the hell - do people not realize that I can see them in the mirror just as easily as they can see themselves, or me? And let's also face the fact that I DON'T EVEN LIKE LOOKING AT MYSELF IN THE FRIGGIN' MIRROR so I'm not comfortable over here surrounded by the doggone things, anyway, and the last thing I need, Popeye, is that look of sheer disdain, as if my sheer presence on the planet is an insult to you.
That one look was all it took to undo the good of the entire day. Talking to Sharon and Ryan and Melissa about how I was doing, letting the time slip by in the company of Terra, who simultaneously entertains and motivates (and I think I do the same for her.) I felt the tears start to well up, and I had to get away.
I don't even remember finding my way to the bathroom. I do remember hearing Terra when she walked in after me - "You didn't really think I was just going to let you walk away and not follow you, did you?"
Eventually, I got off my pity pot and went back out, finishing up on the machines - I don't think I'll be going back to the free weights any time soon. It's intimidating enough when my self-esteem is intact. We went for a swim, soaked in the hot tub and soaked up more moisture in the sauna before showering off to head home.
But there you have it - my first gym-based meltdown. It wasn't pretty. But I survived. And I've spent pretty much every moment since then wishing the asshole would crush his pinky between two 75-pound weights. Is it wrong?