Gym rats

I finished my workout and went to the locker room only to find water all over the floor around my locker. Now, the showers are all individual, with plenty of space for drying off. And, of course, one can easily dry off next to the pool before entering the locker room. Yet, someone had chosen not to do one or the other, thus creating a risk of wet socks, if not slipping and falling while dressing. Fortunately, I’ve encountered this only two or three times.

More frequently, though, I find that someone or another has used the small bench in the area as their own storage area. Some (too many) guys spread their personal stuff out more than necessary in the limited space. Some leave their bags on the bench while they go out and exercise. Maybe also a towel. There’s one bench in each of three areas. There are 2-3 dozen lockers in each area. The bench would hold maybe six of us if we were just sitting there watching TV, fewer if we’re putting on socks and shoes. Sometimes (too often), someone finishing up after a workout spreads their own belongings out over half or more of the bench.

I used to stuff my bag into my locker while exercising, but after observing a few intelligent, thoughtful souls putting theirs on top of their locker, I started doing the same. Then I keep it on the floor in front of my locker while getting showered and dressed. I especially enjoy doing this when someone else is there spread across the bench.

I rarely see someone using a machine for more than the 30-minute limit. I don’t think many ever do so, and when I have seen it, it hasn’t been a problem because there are other machines available. Yet there was at least one person at one point who abused an exercise table. That may not be the proper name for it, but I’m talking about a knee-high, padded table on which one can do exercises for which you need to lie down. The table is far preferable to a mat on the floor for those of us who can’t easily arise from the floor. Some time ago, there was a person who would stand on the table to do standing exercises. Why didn’t they just stand on the floor instead of leaving dirt, smudges and streaks from their shoes? (They also didn’t clean after use, as most people do.)

One other locker-room problem is those who do not turn water off in sinks or showers. I hesitate to mention this, because I did so once on Facebook and was censured by several people who, I’m pretty sure, generally opt in favor of preserving natural resources. The critics wanted me to give the water-wasters a pass because they are old and probably couldn’t hear the water continuing to drip or run. I countered, rightfully, that I am hearing impaired and still often hear these problems. But, more than that, one can look and see if they turned the water all the way off. I think it’s a matter of the all-too-common problem of individuals just not making much effort to be aware of what’s going on around them.

Let me add, I’m not talking only about drips. Too often, mostly in the showers, it’s a steady stream. Sometimes it’s even a full, albeit light, shower spray. And it’s almost always hot water, thus wasting the electricity or gas that heats the water, as well as the water itself.

People I encounter at the gym, for the most part, range from “not-a-problem-to be-around” to “enjoyable-to-be-around.” Sometimes, however, there are those who, at least in certain situations, drift into “problem-to-be-around” territory. Fortunately, these make up a miniscule minority.

Trying to outrun a scary enemy

Back when I was still physically able to run, I did so. A lot. Sometimes I would describe that day’s run on Facebook. Once when I did, a friend jokingly asked, “Who was chasing you?” My answer: “The aging process.”

With another birthday upon me, I am thinking about how my celebration has changed. In my early 30s, I finally accepted that I’m not immortal and began to get serious about taking care of my health. My primary form of physical exercise was running. Soon, I started entering road races as incentives to run regularly. Over time, running regularly became its own incentive.

I decided I would mark my 33rd birthday by running a mile that day and I would add another mile each year to my 40th birthday, on which I would run eight miles. I knew it would take some work to increase the distance I could run, but surely I could get from one mile to eight miles, gradually building up my strength over that many years.

I ran two miles on my 34th birthday, three on my 35th and so on to eight miles on my 40th. Exactly as planned.

It didn’t take me eight years to work up to being able to run eight miles, though. In fact, I ran a half marathon a few months before my 36th birthday.

After 40, I did not keep adding miles to my birthday celebration. For my 41st, I ran for 41 minutes, then 42 minutes on my 42nd. I don’t remember how many years I continued this specific plan, but for a number of years I came up with something along these lines.

I also don’t remember when I began letting my birthday be a day of rest and relaxation. Probably around 60, which is when my knees began to complain. I still exercise regularly and at a level appropriate for a septuagenarian, but I take my birthday off now.

I’m continuing to run from aging, mostly via a bike in the gym, but certainly not from birthdays. Continuing to have — and enjoy — birthdays is kinda the point.

Art vs. science in the kitchen

To me, “recipe” means “suggestion.” If I run across a recipe somewhere that looks interesting, I will follow it — at least to a great extent — the first time I try it. If I decide to repeat it, I refer less and less to it each time. Soon enough, I begin making something of my own based on that original formula. At least as often, I look at recipes to get an idea of what ingredients go well together.

I think of my personal “recipes” as “the way I cook things.” That can vary a little from meal to meal. Besides those based on “suggestions” or observation, others have come about by my trying to recreate something similar to a dish I’ve had in a restaurant.

When I began cooking — and I cannot pinpoint a date — I relied on what I had observed others doing. Early on, I built meals around a pork chop or hamburger in the frying pan or chuck steak under the broiler. Primary seasonings were salt and pepper, plus Worcestershire sauce for pork chops. I generally followed the meat-vegetable-starch menu (usually potatoes for beef, rice for pork).

Later, when my mother was diagnosed with high blood pressure, I replaced salt with a salt substitute I make from scratch — based on a “suggestion” I read in a newsletter. I found that Worcestershire sauce works on a lot more than pork chops. I learned about more and more spices and incorporated them into appropriate dishes.

Early on, I added meat loaf to my repertoire and it’s still a regular. Key ingredients are finely chopped green pepper and garlic, as well as ample tomato sauce.

Spaghetti sauce is something else I began developing a long time ago. Use ample Italian spices, preferably fresh, and cook — in an iron skillet — slowly for a couple of hours.

I’ve always really enjoyed fried chicken. As a young adult I started trying to prepare it and got pretty good at it. Later in life, to try to be a little healthier, I developed an alternative to frying. Now I brown the flour-coated pieces in the frying pan, then bake them. Over a bed of rice— even better. Best yet, add a sauce using the broth you can make by putting a little water in the frying pan, scraping and stirring.

I still, however, occasionally can’t resist the Friday fried chicken special at my local supermarket.

Over time I added roasts and whole birds, baked in the oven. You can bake other things along with them — definitely potatoes, onions and mushrooms and with pork, apples, sweet potatoes and celery. I’ve also thrown in squash, green peppers and even green beans. Baking fresh garlic cloves is always a delicious possibility.

I usually make (and enjoy) dressing with baked fowl. I don’t, however, stuff larger birds. I bake dressing inside Cornish hens, but alongside chickens and turkeys.

Since the early days, I’ve upgraded and expanded my choice of steaks. I’ve learned to make rubs from scratch by observation, including reading the ingredients on containers of prepared rubs, and relying on what I’ve learned about various spices. I concoct marinades based on what I know about which flavors go with what.

I’ve also tried my hand at fish. I often order fish in a restaurant, because it’s likely to be better than anything I can prepare. I look for what’s fresh and local. You can’t go wrong with the fish of the day at the beach. Or mountain trout in Asheville. A waiter there once told me that “trout is a battleground here.” Every restaurant tries to be the best at it.

I do a passable job on a few fish dishes. Two of mine I like best are sword fish steak (butter and rosemary are key) and a tilapia with a sauce made in the frying pan after the coated fillets are browned. I sauté onions, add lime juice and wine, then stir in butter. Yes, both of these are based on “suggestions” I saw somewhere. I also enjoy my catfish roasted with Cajun spices.

Dining in some fine restaurants helped me appreciate the value of sauces. In early years, I had used Campbell’s cream-of soups for easy sauces, but when I got more serious, I looked at basic sauce “suggestions” online and adapted. An appropriate sauce adds flavor and enjoyment to a lot of dishes and meals.

Another evolution for me has been moving from frozen to fresh vegetables. I began years ago regularly to use what’s in season at the farmers’ market. For those not in season, I grew less satisfied with frozen vegetables. Fresh produce in the grocery store is generally not as good as fresh from the farmers market, but almost always better than frozen. I’ve veered somewhat from meat-vegetable-starch but still aim for balance, as well as appeal.

So, for the how-to portion of this essay, if you have a cut or filet you want to prepare or some dish you want to try, do an on-line search. You’ll find many recipes. Choose one that looks doable for you and adapt. You can vary ingredients and amounts of ingredients to your own preferences. Or draw on ideas from two or more recipes to create your own dish. Garlic powder, oregano and minuscule doses of cumin can enhance almost anything.

While baking is a science, cooking is an art.

Several years ago, I was at fund-raising dinner for the North Carolina Symphony at A Southern Season, a wonderful gourmet store in Chapel Hill’s past. I was seated next to Michael Barefoot, who founded and at that time still owned A Southern Season. He asked me how I cook.

“I try to make dishes that taste, look and smell great and are healthy,” I said.

He replied, “You are our best kind of customer.”