The Gym Rat Rant

I'm not a Gym Rat in capital letters- you know, one of those types all decked out in expensive Nike clothing with monitors attached all over their bodies to check dissipating calories, pulse rate, blood sugars, weather in Cairo, how many ounces of feces they are carrying,  etc.  I don't go to the gym to pick up men, impress anyone, converse, or network... I go simply in an attempt to fight fat. Because unlike Capital Letter Gym Rat, I have fat, and I'm not pretty about how I get rid of it so I don't much want to spend time at the gym doing anything else.  My water bottle is scuffed, my tee shirts have holes in them, and my hair is definitely not coiffed.  Mostly I just use the cardio machines and supplement with the occasional fitness class.  So, while I'm puffing away on the human equivalent of a hamster wheel, I have time to observe the goings on around me.  Or go mad from boredom.

The road to fitness. Or nowhere...

The YMCA that I belong to is a small neighborhood place. You know, sorta like Cheers- where you're familiar with the folks behind the desk and they know your name. The workout room is pretty small, with some brand spanking new weight machines, free weights, and my personal area- the row of cardio machines. Behind this is a ceiling to floor window that overlooks the pool and gives the swimmers a (in my case unfortunate) view of the runners' backsides.  Ahead of you is a wall of unforgiving, and even taunting mirrors.  Yes dear, those running pants DO make your ass look fat because it IS.  Now get going, Sister!!

May I just add here that my true preference is to run on wooded trails in solitude.  I am the most profound of introverts, after all. If you can, imagine dappled sunlight streaming down, the occasional deer peeking out of trees, and few if any other souls around and you have imagined my runner's nirvana. It really is that idealistic, even on the hottest days, and I can clear my head and sweat and pant with careless abandon.  But I ain't doin' that shit in the winter. NO SIR. Remember, I'm not a fancy pants sort of fitness person. And you got to wear those elite Batman tights to run in the winter, and I don't need the YMCA mirror to tell me that 'those don't work for you on that butt of yours right now, dear.  MMM mmm.'

So, I'm resigned to the fact that in colder seasons,  I must work out in a crowded small space with people that I don't know. And that's fine...  usually.  Admittedly, in my head as I grow more weary and sweaty, a crabby internal conversation often takes place as I observe the goings on.  A list of gym archetypes is now formed there,  and I tick off 'there's another ones' as I see them.  Some of the types I could truly do without, but as we are in the first two weeks of the Resolutionary Month (by January 1-15 folks give up on their New Year's goals and the crowds start to dissipate) there are many of them all.

And you don't have to tell me, I'm already sure I'm someone's archetype too.

1. The Grunter: okay, these guys drive me nuts any time of the year.  You get this guy who loads up the bench press or squat press with ... I don't know...whatever... 2 tons (?) of weight (that they REALLY shouldn't be lifting yet) and they let out these roaring caveman grunts with every single exertion. UGH!! Pay attention to me.  UGH!!! Note the amount of weight I am mastering!  UGH!!  LOOK AT ME. UGH! EVERYONE!! UGH! LOOK!  UGH!! LOOK AGAIN!!!UGH!! SEE??? UGH!! SEEE!!  UGH!!!!

2. The Jabberbox Duo  I do understand the premise of 'workout buddy'.  You can motivate one another on those days when you ain't feeling it- your friend will tell you to get off your ass and vice versa. Sometimes I think that it would be great to have a friend that was available to work out all the time, but even if I did, I would probably talk very little. Because for me, getting the most out of my cardio does require some concentration.  Good or bad, I need to focus on pushing myself, and if I try carrying on an inane conversation, it will compromise the fitness component. So the Jabberbox Duos do bring a level of annoyance to my routine.  It's nearly always two slender women, they will either be on treadmills or ellipticals, and while they casually pedal or walk along with what seems as little physical effort as they possibly can, they talk and talk and talk and talk and talk usually loudly enough that I have to turn up my iPod to tune them out.  Oh i know and then we went to san diego and did you know that beth and rob broke up and she found out he was seeing someone else and how many calories are in yoplait and did you see the bachelor the other night and i have a great recipe for lo cal blah blah blah blah.... Girls, please just go to Wit's and dish over coffee - open up these machines to someone who could really use a WORKOUT.

3. The Pacer These are the ones who come in, go the weights area, do maybe eight reps on one machine and then slowly walk in front of the treadmills to the lobby, get a drink, shoot the shit with the guy behind the counter or whatever, and then slowly walk back in and do eight reps on another machine- (or not) and then repeat.  ad infinitum. Back and forth, just pacing around, often with their mouths wide open and vacant stares. They don't want to be there, they don't care, and they give off that vibe and fill the room with it. Usually I can dig in to my focus place and ignore them, but on weaker days, the uninspired attitude of The Pacer can really get me not caring either.

4. The Creeper As the name implies, these folks are just plain creepy. Typically a dude in street clothes you will find them just hanging around the corners of the gym looking around.  You have no idea why they are there, and I suspect they don't either.  A lot of times they are lurking around the scale, which just makes you feel great about weighing yourself.  Go away, Creepers.  Go away.

5. Unsupervised Kidlets  I am ALL for kids hitting the gym with Mom and Dad. I think it's great.  My frustration comes in when little eight year olds take up cardio machines to goof around while dad is grunting on the bench, and mom is jabbering to her buddy.  They'll set the speed at 7 mph and almost fall off for about 20 seconds, then make it stop, then speed it up to 2 mph, then speed it up a little more, hop off while it's moving, get back on, make it stop, walk backwards on it, etc.  Kid stuff.  Not only is this unsafe, but when you are next to these escapades trying not to keep your exhausted self running by staying focused while still in bad shape, it throws off your groove to have the neighbor treadmill being used as a jungle gym.

So that's my Gym Rant. Having said all that, I would also add that there are some folks that truly inspire me while I work out.

1. Geriatric Jocks There are many older members who work out- and I have to say they impress me. These people are making a real effort to keep themselves strong and healthy and I tip my hat to them all.  The one guy that gets the award for Mostest Awesome Senior is the gentleman in his seventies who was still an Iron Man competitor.  The first time I ever saw him, he hopped on a treadmill next to me, set it at 10 mph and ran for 30 minutes without breaking a sweat.  Not an ounce of fat on the guy and he stood as straight as a Marine.  A few weeks later I saw him pedaling an exercise bike at very high tension and reps.  WITH ONE LEG AT A TIME.  Crazy.  Awesome.

2. Hot dudes  (or hot chicks depending on your sexual preference) This is obvious.  We all get this one. Everyone runs a little faster, lifts a little heavier, gives a little more when a babe is in the room.