If horses sweat, just call me Trigger.

I joined my first gym in 1972. I was 16. It wasn't really a gym, by today's standards. It was called Elaine Powers' Figure Salon in Prairie Village, Kansas. But, I went there - almost daily that summer - to "exercise" on equipment like this...

There were about six positions for the vibrating belt, as I recall. You just stood there, jiggling.

And this...

I can't believe I'm old enough to have sat on one of these...a not altogether unpleasant experience, if you catch my drift.

Back then, it was unattractive to be caught sweating even in an, er, exercise salon. (My mother adamantly preached the 'horses sweat, humans perspire' mantra. I wasn't even allowed to use the word 'sweat' in front of her.) Of course, with hand weights no heavier than 5 pounds and machines offering little to no resistance, no one ever got drenched at Elaine Powers'. Although, given our 100% nylon outfits, that's quite surprising....

I wore leotards and tights. Some of the older ladies wore panty hose. Ugh.

 I thought about all of this while working out at my new ladies-only gym yesterday, a far cry from Elaine's...

Don't bother trying to find me in this photo. I'm up on the balcony.

And, I thought about how much I really love to sweat. In fact, the deeper the sweat line on my t-shirt, the better I feel...

That's 60 minutes of cardio right there!

 I'm just thankful Mom doesn't read my blog.