“You are here because you obviously hate yourselves.” – Mr. Perfect
Truer words have never been spoken than by one Mr. Perfect during the Thanksgiving Day 2011 Boot Camp workout. Sure we all laughed, but then it sank it, why the hell was I at a workout class on the holiday I feel defines me as a person. Of course my existential thought process was interrupted by an almost nip slip of the girl doing burpees next to me (gentleman, you’re welcome for the visual imagery). Which brings me to today’s topic – gym culture and my pet peeves.
Ladies, ladies, ladies, contrary to popular belief of adolescent (and 20 year old) boys nationwide, the locker room is not full of steam, towel fights and sharing secrets. No. It is a place where working women get in, strip down, clean up and get out. Unless you’re telling me my skirt is tucked in to the back of my tights, puh-leaaaase do not talk to me. Or if you must, I beg of you to wait until I am fully clothed. There’s nothing worse than being dripping wet, wrapped up in a towel and having a middle aged woman ask you if she looks too fat in her outfit (true story, this did happen). Who, me? You’re trying to engage in conversation? Normally I’d love to boost your ego, tell you how you are woman let’s hear you roar, only A- I’m dripping wet B- I’m struggling to balance holding my towel and get dressed with mimimal nudity/without my bare feet having to touch the ground (it’s a thing I have) and C- Have my routine down to the second in order to get to work on time. This is NOT the time! Plus, you’re at a gym! If you think your workout gear is too snug, tag on an extra 15 minutes to your elliptical workout.
Speaking of workout outfits, it really grinds my gears when I see women at the gym dressed like they’re freshman at welcome week trying to get a free solo cup at a frat party. The caked on eyeliner, porn star cleavage and intentionally messy pony tails (an art in and of itself), it makes me wonder how they manage to get anything else done. I’m sure I drive them crazy by throwing my hair back in a pony tail, slapping on a headband and letting my bangs stand tall like the feathers on a peacock (get on my level son!). Don’t even get me started on jewelry. I see woman at the gym more accessorized than me on my best night out. Again, not sure what point I’m making here: they are over doing it, or I am fashionably challenged. I guess they have the right motivation since everyone knows how easy it is to meet your soul mate at the gym (enter screen right Katherine Heigl catching the attention of one Channing Tatum while power walking on the treadmill) right? Next!
Lastly, I just do not understand people who come to classes, but make up their own workouts as they go. Ok, I get it, there’s such a thing as modifying a workout, but why bother standing front row of a class if you are marching to the beat of your own drum? And by drum I mean making a complete and utter ass of yourself. Exhibit A – the 5′ 4″ popeye-esqe manboy who stands front row center at my weight lifting class determined to max out every muscle. The point of the class is to work out each muscle group for periods of 4-6 minutes, not lift the bar 4 times, grunt 6 (do the math, it makes no sense) and take 5 water breaks. Not only are you distracting me, you are humiliating yourself. Come on bro, quit while you’re ahead and join the rest of us. Oh and while you’re at it, stop blocking my otherwise perfect view of my gay obsession of an instructor. I only get to see him once a week, do NOT ruin this for me!
So to go back to my personal favorite of Mr. Perfect’s quotes, sure we all go to the gym for our own personal motivations, but just remember, it could be worse, you could be one of the aforementioned gems of gym goers. Consider this a public service announcement.
Conch Potatoes 