Huggable Gym Staff and Grocery Co-Op Peeps

(Comic by Chris Grady, source: www.lunarbaboon.com/comics/snowman.html)

Marcelle took one look at me and practically squealed with delight.
"You're here!" she said, "I knew you'd join. I told them, 'She liked this place when I gave her the tour. She'll join!"

The delightful Black woman, gregarious, in her mid-forties and a bit shorter than me, came circling around from behind the YMCA front desk and greeted me with a boisterous hug. We were both laughing and smiling, she out of a seemingly genuine happiness upon seeing that I had come to exercise that morning, and I was laughing out of surprise! Marcelle had given me the tour of the downtown St. Louis YMCA a few weeks ago when I was considering membership. We hit it off well and I felt comfortable enough perusing the facilities that I decided it was going to be my new gym.

For nearly two weeks, I put off exercising at the YMCA after I became a member. One of the ways my introversion manifests itself is feeling nervous in new environments with unfamiliar people. Add onto that the awkward nature of exercising in a new environment with unfamiliar people, and I kept putting off going to the gym, making excuses to myself that I was too busy or feeling a sinus infection coming on. I even tried planning for my first exercise at this gyms days ahead so that I could warm up to the idea, but then backing out last minute.

I took some Advil Cold & Sinus and went to bed at a decent time last night so that I wouldn't be "too tired" or "too sick" when my alarm woke me in the morning. I had already half-packed my gym bag and checked the bus schedules to the gym and from there to my job. Finally, this morning, I made it to the YMCA! Marcelle's exuberant reception helped dissipate two weeks of nervousness and I felt silly for putting off my gym routine for so long.

The women's locker room reminds me of high school with its rows of blue metal lockers in varying sizes, but my locker rooms never had showers, saunas, and a Jacuzzi. A lifeguard in the beautifully tiled pool room directed me to the room with the weights and exercise machines and the attendant there helped me re-acquaint myself with the machines. After a decent exercise which left me feeling happy that I had at last dragged myself there, I took a shower and prepared to go to work. On my way out, Marcelle at the front desk chatted happily with me. The manager came out as well. I was surprised because he remembered seeing me when I was here for the tour in mid-January. When I told Marcelle that I needed to head to the bus stop, she waved goodbye and said, "I'll see you later this week, I love you!"

I grinned about being told "I love you" by a gym receptionist I had only met twice. I wasn't disturbed, in fact, her kindness made my day feel suddenly richer and I felt open and magnanimous towards the world around me. The bus stop in front of the library a block away from the YMCA is located on a major road. While waiting for the bus, I observed humanity pass me by in their cars, in wheelchairs, trucks, walking with strollers, or in groups talking heatedly together. When I got on bus 32, the driver pulled away so fast that I stumbled forward while walking to a seat and a man said, "Whoa there, hold onto something. Don't go and kill yourself now." Everyone laughed, including me.

Work was not much different than any other day, but after my encouraging gym experience, I was feeling happier and had a long conversation with a volunteer that I usually avoid saying much to when I see him. We might have both been pleasantly surprised by our sudden amiable connection. The pleasant people connection continued when I stopped at my grocery co-op on the way home. My landlord came in to shop for Valentine's Day dinner while I perused the shelves and chatted with my friend who works at the store. The three of us discussed Portablella mushrooms and spinach while devising possible dinner recipes.

Connecting to strangers and neighbors even for a brief moment throughout my routine of the day, added a dimension of joy and a sense of community that I hadn't expected in the middle of a large city. Any place, the country, suburbs and a metropolis can feel isolating if you hustle and bustle through your day, only concerned about your own itinerary and problems. The cliche about feeling "lonely in a crowd of people" exists because it is a common experience. Loneliness and troubles can make some people want to withdraw from human connection because connection takes more work and relationship has its own potential pitfalls and disappointments. Things can be dark and depressing enough that it seems no one in the world cares about you or your struggles, and thus we shouldn't try opening ourselves up to people. I have found that this tendency is based on lies most of the time. As an introvert, I can testify that we need time alone in order to thrive as well, but all people need connection with others, no matter how brief, in order to face life. That is why I chose the above comic. The man couldn't bear to imagine the snowman facing all alone potential harassment from teenagers or slow melting from the sun. In making the companion snow figure, it was representative of the fact that we may not be able to avoid hardships or death with or without companionship, but at least the journey is more bearable and less isolating with others.