Gym Rats, How I Loathe Thee

I have been going to the gym a lot lately. It’s a good way to not only get the exercise my doctor is always yelling at me about, (I do have a great doctor, by the way, and her only point is that it’s good for women’s bones and stuff to do weight-bearing exercise) but also to destress. Specifically, to imagine myself flinging weights into the eyes of people who have ticked me off in the last 24 hours.
The problem is, of course, that the people who have ticked me off in the last 24 hours probably include the other people at the gym. Thus, I give to you:

The People I Hate Most At The Gym

The High School Talkers

“Dude, why are you wearing a chihuahua on your shirt?”

“Yeah, that’s so dumb! You’re an idiot!”

“It’s not a chihuahua! It’s a meme! From the internet, man!”

“It’s a freaking shiba inu! Go find something to do!” ~ Me

High school boys, as you may be aware, are not really at the gym for their health, but rather as some kind of complicated teenage status symbol. While there, they must discuss all aspects of their lives. You may also be aware that the lives of high school boys are not particularly interesting, nor are high school boys members of the intelligentsia. Mostly they talk about girls. And things they think are dumb. And protein powder. I have listened to treatises on protein powder. High school boys: You cannot possibly be working up a sweat if you have the time and energy to hang on the machines and chit-chat. Go find something to do.

The Inspirational Trainer (Who Is NOT My Trainer)

“Yeah, keep going! Push through! Now you’re working!”

“Fuck. Right. Off.” ~ My Brain

This guy. This. Fucking. Guy. Look, I lack upper body strength. I know this about myself. I am not making faces because I need encouragement. I am making faces because I am sitting on a freaking BALANCE ball, trying to do 20 lb. upward shoulder presses that are making me feel like I am going to die. And I already feel ridiculous. So please. Stop drawing attention to me. I have employed a trainer. She knows to ignore me even when we’re three feet from each other. So learn, dude. Just stop talking.

The Guy Who “Borrows” Stuff

“Hey, are you still using that? Can I borrow it? I only need it for, like, two sets.”

“Sure. That’s fine.” ~ Me

Except that your two sets take the same amount of time it takes me to do five sets of other things. Mostly because you are on your cell phone, texting and wandering the gym! There were five other barbells! Do you know how LONG it took me to get that one where I needed it? I am all about sharing equipment (side-eye at all you equipment guarders), but you think because you can do more weighted squats than me you take priority? And THEN, when you were done with it, you didn’t put it back! Borrowing implies that you will put it back!

The Girl Who Works Out Right Next To The Mirror

“Can I just…get in here?” ~ Me, going for free weights every five minutes.

I understand that you need to see your form. I get that. But….you’re just stretching a band across your chest in slow motion, right? Why do you have to be one foot from the mirror for that? I mean, maybe you have poor eyesight, but could you go to a place where you’re not directly in the way of everybody else who may want something off the racks? You’re being impolite. A lot.

Let’s be clear. I hate the gym. I hate everything about it. I hate the smell, I hate the people, I hate the positive attitudes of the staff. But I guess I like the knowledge that I can actually do the things that I have convinced myself I am incapable of over the last 27 years. So if everybody could just act with propriety, politeness, and efficiency, maybe I could get out of there without imagining I’m stabbing everyone.

But probably not.

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amandamarieg

Amandamarieg is a lawyer who does not work as a lawyer. She once wrote up a plan to take over the world and turned it in as a paper for a college course. She only received an A-, because she forgot that she would need tech geeks to pull off her scheme.

9 thoughts on “Gym Rats, How I Loathe Thee”

    1. Classes are for happy people, I’ve noticed. Everyone in there is full of positivity and rainbows. I would like a class where everybody admits that this is the WORST and they hate EVERYTHING. Gym classes for pessimists! It’s the way of the future!

        1. My mom and I went to a class together once! Halfway through, she was like, “I’m going to get a drink of water,” and she just walked out and didn’t come back. I found her on a treadmill at the end of class, walking like nothing had happened. Her response, “I didn’t expect Lady Hitler to be running it.” And that was the LAST TIME I worked out with my mother.

  1. I love the gym so much. Just got back from thoroughly killing myself on the Stairmaster. But I absolutely feel your pain. I ended up dating a guy who fancied himself my trainer and it made me almost loathe him. I hate the people who use a machine for five seconds, then put their crap on it and step away for like an HOUR to go chat up someone or finagle on their phone. I could knock out three sets while you’re goofing off but no, no one can touch that machine until you’re done sitting on it!

    Still love the gym though. My body wasn’t made for running. Unless its a zombie apocalypse, then I’m a flippin’ marathoner.

    1. I run like a dying duck. If there’s a zombie apocalypse, I’m pretty screwed.

      That’s why I do group classes. In fact, the gym I belong to only offers group instruction. It also reduces the opportunity for gym jerkiness. The side-eye for violating “The Rules” can be deadly! Most people figure it out pretty quick :). And if they struggle, there are enough regulars that will gently put them right.

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