People I hate at the gym.

This is a life update, so don’t expect anything epiphanous.  Epiphanary.  Ephiph…never mind.  There are NO EPIPHANIES in this blog post.  Okay?

I know that I haven’t really deigned to post about anything other than my vacation that was now five months ago since that happened, and that’s significant mostly because it’s one of the more interesting things that’s happened to me since last October.  That’s the truth.  I wouldn’t lie.

However, this post isn’t here for me to apologize, otherwise I would probably just keep on living my life.  Instead, I have chosen to write about the place I have been spending the 2nd most amount of time since January – okay, third, after my house and work.  I’ve kind of been on what you might call a “health kick.”  And by that, I mean that I “still eat Chinese food.”  I just “eat less.”  And “run afterwards.”  You know?

Anyway, spending a lot of time on cardio machines has given me a really valuable chance to reflect on the kinds of people I don’t like at the gym.  After a recent conversation with some co-workers, I realized that the list has grown rather long.  And that’s okay.  Because I have a blog – otherwise known in this particular scenario as the place for me to record these gripes for other people to read or not read at their leisure. 

Please feel free to weigh in if I’ve missed anyone!

1.  The Pretty Girls: If you look good at the gym, I don’t like you.  If your shirt has lace on it, if your hair doesn’t get frizzy and sweaty, if you are not purple after an hour on the treadmill, or if you wear cute flats instead of manly sneakers like me, I don’t want you around.  You make me – and every other person busting their ass and looking truly vile as a result – look really bad, and I wish you would go to a different gym.  There should be a special gym for people like you.  I would NOT go there, ever.  PS: If your perfume and mascara aren’t running by the end of your workout, you’re doing it wrong.

2.  The Gaggle of Teenage Boys: If you come to the gym every day at 5:45 with 17 of your closest friends to do nothing/stare at women in tight, sweaty clothing/gossip about your non-existent lifting routine/do bicep curls as a large group, I don’t like you.  I wish you would just go home and play Call of Duty or watch Jersey Shore – trust me, you’d be getting about the same workout.  You and your useless comrades are in my way and taking up a really large amount of room due to the volume of your group.  Please leave.

3.  The Old Creepy Man: You know who you are.  You, sir, sitting in the upright bicycle chair for 3 and a half hours, alternately sleeping and leering at women doing squats.  You have not turned on your machine, and you are fooling no one.  There is a gross sex shop not 500 feet outside the front door of this gym – please make your way there, and stop using that upright bike.  Someone might like to use it who actually wants to exercise.

4.  The Olympic Athlete: Don’t you have somewhere nicer to work out?  You have jerseys riddled with impressive corporate sponsors, great hair, and well-defined back muscles that seem to ripple like the sea during your lateral pull-downs.  You can do 100 chin-ups with a 30-pound medicine ball squeezed between your legs, and you are clearly no-nonsense.  We get it.  Which leads me to my main question: can’t you work out at a different gym?  This place costs $24 dollars per month.  Don’t you have some kind of magical trainer who makes you this way?  Please stop making the rest of us mere mortals feel that we are failing at exercise and life in general because we don’t look like you and we can’t squat 400 pounds.

5.  The Smelly Person: I’m sorry, but this one is major.  I have to end my workout early when you get on the elliptical next to mine.  That is not fair.  I understand that deodorant is a complicated social issue, and that you don’t believe in it, but it should be required for the gym, or you just shouldn’t go.  Please run outside where all of the earth’s natural oxygen supply can attempt to diffuse your malodorous activity.  Don’t make the rest of us suffer just because we are more thoughtful than you.

6.  The Chatter: I did NOT come here to talk to strangers.  Believe me, if I wanted a friend, I would join a book group.  Or make an actual friend.  I have headphones in.  I look angry.  My face is purple.  I am sweating like someone wearing a sweatsuit who has been locked in a sauna.  Now is NOT the time to get to know my personality.  Trust me; you won’t like it.  Also, put away the cell phone.  This is not a commuter train.  Unless someone is dying, that call can wait 20 minutes.

7.  The Juicer: I will never understand these men.  I know that lifting can be a social thing for men, and I understand that how much you lift is equal to your self-worth, and I know that watching yourself in the mirror is a turn-on (for whatever misguided reason; you look like an anatomy model gone horribly, confusingly wrong).  None of your proportions are right; I cannot find your neck.  I am worried that the fellow you are spotting is accidentally going to drop that barbell on his head, and the loud groaning noise you are emitting as you finish your chest press sounds inappropriately sexual at best.  You are distracting, and I don’t like being distracted.  How’s about an early morning workout instead of peak hours?  Oh, wait, that would defeat the purpose.

8.  The Parking Attendant: My gym has a pretty big parking lot, due mainly to its large size and high volume of members.  As a result of this, there are several times of day where it’s highly likely that you may have to choose a spot up to 200 endless yards away from the front door in order to garner a place to park.  Here’s a hint: don’t complain about how far you had to walk from your car when you’re inside of the gym.  You are at the gym, and walking to the front door is not even the bare minimum of what’s expected of you here.  This is not a complaint that will ever get you sympathy in this particular venue.  Get.  Over.  It.

In closing, if you come to the gym looking like a normal person, leave looking like a dying person, and keep your head down and just work the f*ck out for an hour or so, you are fine in my book.  Also fine: working out with girlfriends and chatting to pass the time and watching The Biggest Loser while doing cardio (seriously inspiring).  Do you guys have pet peeves that I haven’t covered here?  Come on, I know you do.

Loves ya!