I have found my perfect workout album. It is the 1990 Rykodisc reissue of David Bowie's 1972 masterpiece Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders From Mars. It rocks, it's emotional, it's energetic, it's catchy, it's the right length, I don't have to turn my iPod up and down to hear the whole thing clearly, and it's very familiar to me. Last night I listened to the whole thing (including the five bonus tracks, which are everything that bonus tracks should be - two songs that were released at the same time in a different format, one alternate mix of another such song, and two revealing, high quality demos of key album tracks - it's a total mystery why the two labels that have released this music yet again since 1990 did not include these perfectly selected bonus tracks. Anyway...)
while I did 35 minutes of elliptical and five upper body strength exercises recommended by my coach. Then I did another 20 minutes of elliptical, cooling down with the bonus tracks from disc two of the 2006 reissue of Kristy MacColl's Titanic Days. By then it was somewhat late and after 600 calories of elliptical fat burn I had the pool to myself, racing through my 15 laps.
Some of you have heard the story of what happened the last time I attempted to be even moderately friendly with a stranger who spoke to me at the pool. Well, another such circumstance occurred last week. I was relaxing a bit, down to my final length of the pool. The woman in the lane next to me asked me how I could stand to swim in the water. Then she noticed I was only temporarily without goggles, having momentarily tossed them to the deck in exhaustion. I said that it was indeed really tough and that the first time I tried it without goggles and I could hardly see the next day (true). Then it occurred to me to offer her my goggles. I've never been thrilled with them and she didn't have any. I thought it would be a Christ like thing to do. But, based on my previous experience (ask me if you haven't heard) I simply put them back on my head, swam my final length, and went to the locker room without another word.
Fast forward to last night. I see the pool is uncluttered, shower to appear polite, then go to put my goggles on and SNAP! Broken band. I got them tied together awkwardly so I could at least swim right away but I kind of wished I had given them away after all! I can't win.
(Incidentally, if purchasing the above albums, it'd be a good idea to confirm exactly what edition you're getting beforehand with the seller you select. I almost bought an old version of TD without the second disc from a seller who wasn't paying enough attention to exactly which pages he was using to offer his wares.)