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The Ladies of the Locker Room.

Recently I had to switch my work out schedule.  It’s only been a few days, but I miss my old routine already.  The new routine isn’t that bad.  My new time at the gym is a much less popular time so it’s nice to have all the open equipment. But I’m starting to miss the conversation. Not so much the conversation that I took part in, but the conversations I would over hear.  There is one group of women in particular that I will miss.  I call them “The Ladies.”

I can’t really tell how many woman make up The Ladies but I’m guessing about five.  They change on the other side of the locker bay from me, a space so prime and conveniently located to the amenities of the locker room that I can only imagine they’ve had it staked out since the early 90′s.

I’m not really sure how The Ladies spend their time at the gym since I have never really seen them on any equipment.  My guess is that they all attend an elite yoga class offered only for people who have been members for 20+ years.

Oh how I love to listen to The Ladies. Telling stories about their grown children with the carefree ease that only comes once they are no longer financially your responsibility. As they would finish getting ready, the conversation would turn to where they would meet up for lunch. Later, after a few hours at home doing laundry and making a dinner, they would meet up for book club.  If the book took place in the South, everyone brought a southern dish. French literature brought french food. On Friday nights, I picture them picnicking on the lawn at Wolf Trap or going to the ballet at the Kennedy Center.

Need a recommendation on a good physical therapist for a bad knee? Just ask The Ladies. Want to know which health food store has the best selection of vitamins? Ask The Ladies. Leaky faucet? Air Conditioner not working? Need new hard wood floors? Between them they know it all.

To listen to them talk is like listening to a beautiful symphony. They spend their days so light and carefree. They’ve made it. It’s like they’re walking in the promise land. Gone are the days of being up all night with a sick kid. No longer must they spend the day picking up toys or wiping sticking counters. Sometimes I think when The Ladies wake up in the morning there must be a faint playing of One Republic’s The Good Life. Except they’ve probably never heard that song because I’m sure they only listen to WTOP or NPR.

Comments

patrice

I had to come back to comment on this. Seriously, I was always conflicted between admiration and puzzlement with this scenario. Really, aren’t they bored? A little embarassed? Anyone else with thoughts on this? Never figured it out myself.