At the YMCA - including my new pet peeve

Three years ago our health insurance provided for free membership at most local fitness spots. I chose the YMCA because it was near-by and I liked what they stood for. And I didn't think I would be bombarded at every turn by skinny women and muscular men clad in the latest in workout clothes. And that is how it happened that I became a member.

The first year I went probably 20 times total starting with the grand tour and quick description and usage of the machines. I walked a little but got discouraged when lapped on the indoor track by an 80-year old using a walker.

My insurance was not impressed although they tried to put a positive spin on my visits to the Y by texting me, "Way to go. Here it is August and you've worked out 12 times. They never asked, nor did I volunteer, whether I worked out or, as it mostly turned out, sat in the lobby drinking the free coffee commiserating with sweaty folks about how good this was doing us.

Now we are in the fourth month of year three. 

I can't even give you a reasonable explanation of why the following has happened, however, I have been to the Y already this year a total of 75 times. Yes, you read that right. I'm sure the health insurer thinks I'm sharing the membership card with several fit friends but if they knew me they would know I am not that generous. All these visits are mine.

It started at Christmas when, for some totally still unknown and bizarre reason, I asked my husband for a personal trainer for a gift. Not one that would live with us, but one that would meet with me regularly and plan a personalized program just for me. My gift's name is Laura.

After getting started with Laura, I enrolled in a swim class that meets three times a week. So I would go to the Y, work out Ala Laura and then work out in the pool.  That's what I was doing just before sitting down to write this blog.

Now to my pet peeve.

The machines at the YMCA get a lot of use, have a lot of turn-over. In the space of an hour, ten or more people could cycle through on one machine. That's why we are provided with hand towels. That is why there are bottles of spray disinfectant attached to nearly every other machine. We are to spray down the machines after each use.

But alas, some of those bottles of disinfectant are as full at the end of the day as they were at the beginning.

Why, you ask?

Because some people think 1) their mothers will follow them around cleaning up after them, 2) because they are staff or personal trainers they are exempt, 3) because they are not very sweaty they are exempt, 4) because they are just to darn important to mess with cleaning up after themselves and the Y should be grateful for their membership money, 5) no one told them, 6) no one demonstrated, 7) everyone knows their sweat is not full of germs like everyone else's and the list could go on.

The Y is one of the dirtiest places I go to voluntarily, and that includes some restaurants I frequent, but don't get me started.

And so I have had email conversations with Y personnel. They agreed it is a problem. They promised prompt action. I'll let you know the end of this story. In the meantime I will simply act as a mother and spray down the machines before, and after, I use them. I will warn those who start to use a machine if it has not been cleaned. I will clean off machines that I am not using if I see they have been abandoned germy.

And that's what I think about it.