“Faux Gym Rat”

Confession time, I was on the hunt for the all powerful and stimulating endorphin rush.  I assumed I might find it at the gym, so about a month ago, I joined.  I had contemplated this move for months before finding myself sitting across from the young salesman.  They are truly salesmen, and in my case selling me something I had not totally bought into, yet. He began by enlightening me about the finer points of getting healthy, followed with “can you really put a price on your health”?  Price, deal I smell a challenge in the air.   But in answer to the question, yes, I can put a price on health.  But, I love a great deal, so began the cat and mouse game of this is what I am willing to invest followed by his best offer and so on.  This took far less time than anticipated being the expert negotiator I pride myself on being.  The whole process took less than 20 minutes and the next thing I knew my wife and I were being welcomed to our new family, “the gym rats.” My pride in getting a good deal and being an excellent negotiator just landed me in unfamiliar territory soiled with the smell of sweat accompanied by a side of ego. I had been contemplating this move for well over 6 months probably closer to a year but now it was reality we were officially members of a gym.   We left the facility with a plan to return the following evening, which we did.   That first day created so much anxiety for me.  I was confident I would be the only fat guy in a sea of hard bodies.  Nothing could have been further from the truth.  There were plenty of my peeps everywhere, sprinkled with hard bodies and everything in between. 

All the cardio equipment is located on a catwalk overlooking the entire workout area, providing a panoramic view of the locals and their activities.  A simple layout of racquetball courts, free weights, weight machines, gymnasium, stair climbers, glass enclosed classrooms and the ever-popular cycling class.  The cycling class is one of my favorites to watch from above, it is far more entertaining than the televisions mounted from the ceilings.  One by one the cyclists file into the room.  Each participant begins to prepare with his/her own routine for this ass-kicking ride to nowhere.  Stretching, adjusting their bike seat, checking out the competition as if they were about to begin the Tour De France.  The wait is over the instructor finally shows and the race begins.  A quick warm up and they are off, like hamsters on a wheel they begin pedaling as if their little lives depended on it.  Fast pedal, slow pedal, stand on the pedal, sit down, lean forward, lean back, pedal, pedal, pedal.  They are all in unison as they pedal to nowhere, but at the end of the journey they all seem pleased to have just made it.  Some day I am going to join them and see what all the fuss is about. 

The true gym rat is not had to find in the crowd.  They wear the least amount of clothes, flex those massive guns and spend most of their time talking to other rats on the finer points of achieving such a fine tuned machine.  Typically when just standing they become mouth breathers, only furthering the less than intelligent look. I am unclear how they maintain their bodies since most of the time they stand around and flex.  Perhaps they failed to provide me with this workout during orientation, “The Stand and Flex.” I need to check into that.

A close relative to the cycling group are the elliptical girls.  I feel my breath quickening just mentioning these machines.  They look fairly benign all in a row but believe me they are a killer.  The elliptical girls get on these machines and pump away for tiresome endless sessions.  Generally the elliptical girls come in groups of 3 or 4, it is rare to find a singlet in this event.  I think the energy from the group is what keeps them going, or possibly the fear of a flabby ass.  They wear flashy gym clothes, maintain a slight smile and give the illusion of enjoying themselves.  If asked I think they would all answer “world peace”.

Have I mentioned the runners?  It is impressive watching the runners on the treadmills and what a focused group they are.  I wonder what they are running from?  I have always thought we all are running to or from something.  This group is clearly running from something, with their flaccid facial expression and intense focus.  They are oblivious anyone else is in the place.  They sweat and drip, ever cautious not to splatter the person on either side.  The runner has no real type; they are old, young, fat, skinny, ugly, beautiful or handsome. 

The fitness machine people all carry little notebooks and periodically jot down a quick note.  Now this group comes in all shapes and sizes.  Gender clearly plays an important role in which machines are selected.  Women tend to select machines for toning and trimming their ass and hips to keep them from resting on their knees.  Men select the leg and arm builders, hoping to snag the toned and trimmed for a date.  I was not aware such a symphony of grunts and sounds could be extracted from humans, all directed by their trainers.  These areas are prime hunting ground for trainers.  Circling the group waiting for one to stray from the pack and boom they go in for the kill.

Finally the free-weight group, they are so funny to watch.  I think I found the prom kings and queens (see previous post).  They are the buff of the buff, many now missing their necks, engulfed by their muscles.  It is important to remember too much of anything is not good, this holds true for muscles as well.  They are also mouth breathers I suspect because the muscles have closed off their nasal passages.  They are an angry group or at least that is what their body language conveys.  Their favorite word is “dude”, dude this and dude that.  All competing to see who can lift the most while jumping up and strutting around like a proud little rooster.  The only rule is never make direct eye contact or you may be challenged to a dual at the bench press.   

I could go on and on about my viewpoint and perspective of each group, but really what this all boils down to is how it impacts me.  Please understand I will never be one who wakes up in the morning all jacked up to hit the gym.  I do not run into the building upon arrival.  I know no one at the gym other than the slick salesman who signed me up, who I look at with such contempt, like he made me eat all that cake. But, here comes my greatest confession of all, it does make me feel better.  There I have said it, out loud.  I have experienced the endorphin rush, it helps to combat the winter blues, I can breath better, I move easier and I have even lost a little weight.  You would think these things alone would make me crave the gym, but they do not.  I force myself to go 6 days a week and allow myself one day to skip.   I know me and if I begin to give myself the okay to slide it will all be down hill.  I have been more alert and I actually smile sometimes when it begins to snow.  This is not a normal response for snow and me.  I bought a couple of pairs of quality running shoes to workout.  These are the first pairs of running shoes I have ever owned. I bought one pair in silver; they make me feel like Mercury, messenger of the gods. 

I am out of here, I think it is time for me to get to the gym.