MLW: Miriam Ali

As a self-proclaimed gym rat, it is very rare that a day goes by without me exercising for at least an hour. Some people prefer to workout at home — and some people prefer not to work out at all. I bought my husband a hammock for Father’s Day a number of years ago and it was the perfect gift. At least if he’s going to lay down, he can do it outside.

People go to the gym for different reasons. For me, it clears my head. I am able to start my day with the planets all in alignment if I have spent some time on the elliptical. It is not only for my physical health but for my mental wellbeing as well — although, some would argue that getting up at 5:00 a.m. to be at the gym when it opens a half an hour later is not a sign of mental health but mental illness. I do not enjoy going in the afternoon and rarely in the evening — it is part of my morning routine. Regardless of when I go, it is my “alone time” and I am pretty oblivious to things going on around me while I am there.

I have tried a couple of gym classes, but they are really not for me. I like to be in my own space and in my own head. While I have friends who love their spin classes and enjoy working out with other people, I am busy enough competing against myself. With that, about a year ago, I took up boxing and no — that was not a typo. If ever there was a way to get rid of pent up frustrations in a healthy manner, it is punching a hanging bag. One of my best birthday presents was my own set of wraps and gloves. Some people watch and stare as I workout, as most people who use that part of the gym are men, but I do not really care. I am not there for you — I am there for me.

Last week, after three snow days and a round trip drive from Woodmere to JFK that took almost two hours, there was only one way to release all of my tension. I changed my clothes, grabbed my bag and went back to the gym. I must have been pretty stressed. The bag seemed to dance from the ceiling with each blow I knocked into it. I kicked it, punched it and pounded it. Going to the gym in the morning with the same people over and over, my routine is nothing new and many people have seen me wrap my hands and put on my gloves. One fellow gym-goer at that hour refers to me as “Miriam Ali.” When someone else heard I had six children, he responded, “No wonder you punch that bag the way you do!” I reassured him I am very fond of my kids and my love of boxing has only to do with me and not with them. The people in the evening, however, are not part of my crew since I am an early-bird, and I seemed to have piqued one person’s curiosity who had never seen me before.

After cutting my elbow at one point, I stepped out of the studio to wash it off. This man whom I had never met came over to me. Pretty out of breath from his own workout and looking at my bleeding elbow, he smiled and said, “Jeez — if you told me to wash the dishes, I’d wash the dishes!”

I blushed and laughed. If only it was that easy.

MLW