My, my, my

Today I took advantage of a rare and greatly coveted Monday off and checked out my gym's downtown branch. I have but two words: Hot. Tamale.

Seriously, this gym is so big it should have its own flag flying out front! And it's kept at a much more comfortable temperature than my usual gym. And the people are extremely friendly. AND the, er, equipment is also much nicer.

Unlike at my regular gym, the walls at the downtown location are not lined mercilessly with mirrors. Personally, I do not like too many mirrors in a gym, especially when the machines are positioned in such a way that, if you are not interested in whatever's playing on ESPN or Spike TV, you are forced to look at yourself or others in the mirror. Obviously the latter isn't an option, because it's rude. So, if you choose the former and are not feeling particularly grostesque that day, you almost immediately feel vain. If, however, you are indeed feeling grostesque, monstrous, in fact, you must sit there, enduring it, as your face becomes ever hotter and redder, as you lumber along, wincing at the stitch in your side, and as you watch, in horror, as the bib of perspiration on your chest grows with alarming rapidity. I mean, sweet Mary on a moped! And I'm paying for this?

This is why I don't like mirrors in gyms.

Anyway, copy editor who shan't be named, I do believe you should start taking the spin classes downtown. And I will gladly join you.