please don't stick that needle in my arm anymore today

So. I went to give blood this afternoon. I left work early and everything. Only it didn't work. The lady who was drawing my blood missed the vein. Someone came over to help her. There was a gush of my blood (into the bag --- not all over the center) and then it stopped. The lady fiddled with the needle. I squirmed inside at the pain. Wondered where Nurse Tim went. He was so nice during my exam. And then, that was it. I guess I bruised. They must of nicked something and the blood would no longer flow. They told me I couldn't give blood today. I could come back in 48 hours. Great.

So, now my arm hurts. More than when I actually gave blood two months ago. And I have to go back. Which I will. Because I'm the universal donor. O Negative and all that.

(Of course, I don't want to scare anyone. This is not typical and they really need all you guys to give blood).

I've been thinking about the good old days a lot. You know the ones. When I started this journal. When I was obsessed with health and fitness and every other entry I wrote was about spinning. I was full of theories. Stories. Analogies. I posted daily to the "Healthy" email group. I cruised the fitness websites like a pro. I knew the correct way to pronounce pilates (and if it rhymes with Pirates to you -- you're getting it wrong). And I was really finding my path. Health and fitness was new to me. My body was responding. And I was discovering how enjoyable and rewarding changing your lifestyle can be. I read back through my old entries and they were so about all that.

And it's not that all that stuff isn't true now. It is. Truer than ever. But everything isn't as new and therefore I can't write about it in the same way for a multitude of reasons. And. To be honest, I kind of miss those entries. Whether they were interesting to you or not. They were good for me. Helpful to me. Reassuring. For. Me. They validated my path. Evidence to support this whole change. Effort.

I also miss the funnier entries, too. They just don't grow the freaks at my current gym like they did at Gold's in Madison. So I can't even write about that. As much. Although, there is crazy Locker Room Lady. But I could hardly devout an entry to her. She has this weird habit where she throws her towel on the floor in the locker room and always tries to open her locker with her fingernails first before using her key. And, still, the humor of the situation does not transfer here to the pixeled page. Not nearly as well.

But, man. There were some good gym freaks in my past. Good people to write about. Vent about. Gawk about. Remember naked lady? The nasty one who would blow-dry her hair... naked? The same one who changed her menstrual pad in the locker room? Ish. That's a memory I won't be forgetting about anytime soon.

And then there was perfect body chick. The one who complained all the time about her body because her poor size 2 body was "fat." The one, who the minute she started talking, immediately quit looking "fit" to me and was just annoying instead.

Oh. Man. And all the beefy weightlifters. There were a million stories about them whether I told them here or not. Working out at a Gold's Gym will always give you that.

Everyone at my current club just seems so normal now. Or maybe I just don't pay as much attention. A couple weeks ago I did pass a man on the street wearing a cape on my way into the gym. But I suppose that hardly counts. Although I still consider that a rare sight in downtown St. Paul at 8:30 am on a Saturday morning.

So. Hmmm. What was my point? I don't know. I've just been reading a lot of my archives and thinking fondly about the past. And remembering why I'm doing all this. I guess the Self Challenge kind of rekindled a lot of that.

Blood and Memories