Oh, hello there.
Since it's the early afternoon and there's about 17 empty machines here in a row, I'm bewildered why you've decided to work out on the machine right next to me. You realize that that's the equivalent of a man peeing next to another man when he could have put a urinal between them? No? Oh, you don't care. I see.
What's that? I see you looking at my mini-TV. And yes, yes I am watching Star Trek: Deep Space Nine. So what? Stop judging me. I'm a geek, ok? And I've already seen the episode of Project Runway that you're watching. Look, it's the afternoon, and I definitely can't work out to anything remotely intellectual. The History Channel sucks ass in the middle of the day. Working out with the CNN ticker on makes me practically apoplectic. Conversely, watching TRL on MTV makes me feel old. And VH1 is doing one of those shows on rich people that only makes me feel poor. It's not like you can hear my Star Trek. And hey, you wouldn't get infected with my geek vibes if you had worked out at a machine further away from me. You reap what you sow, gym-ho.
Also, I can't help but notice your scapula poking through your spandex. I can also count some ribs. In addition, your spindly legs are moving at lightening speed. Hey! Hey! Stop looking at the readout on my elliptical machine! You know what? I'm not as fast as you. I'm just starting. I'm asthmatic. I'm still recovering from sinus surgery. Is THIS why you're next to me?! Does it make you feel better?
Seriously gym-ho, you'd better watch yourself. You work out next to me again, I'll put a stick in your elliptical.
- there's a class called Dance Aerobic Funk - and boy do they get funky
- more than normal amount of spandex worn by gym goers
- Men's showers without dividers (knowledge courtesy of EZ)
- There is a tanning bed in your gym
- Guys drop by just to tan
- your gym has a juice bar
- your gym has a hair salon
- you see more than one guy with manorexia
- gay blogger Andrew Sullivan works out there (EZ spotted him in the locker room)
- everyone but you is gay
That's right, I joined a gym. Shock, horror. And funny enough, the closest one to me is indeed one of the gayest gyms in D.C. I am fine with this this because
a) I love gays and
b) it removes the heterosexual cruising element and cuts down on the number of anorexic chicks.
The ones that are there (anorexic girls that is) are clearly forced to go to this gym due to proximity to their homes - lack of caloric intake keeps them from straying too far.
Since I always played sports or biked rather than hit then gym, I also got a session with a personal trainer as I haven't a clue how to use weight machines. I have similarly avoided the treadmill because my inherent klutziness and ability to fall for no reason leaves me with a deep seated fear that I will face-plant onto it at full speed. At my session, the trainer realized I'm a rather hopeless case and basically said "wow, you really have no clue. An hour really isn't enough time for me to show you the ropes".
In related news, I've also decided to train for a 10k, or as I like to think of it, one half of one half of a marathon. This should provide hilarious tales as well because I have absolutely no idea how to go about this.
Oh, hello there.
