The Gym Complex
November 3rd, 2007
Aren’t gyms great? I mean, you get to burn some energy, relieve some stress and meet all sorts of people. Well, I don’t know about you but I’m not too fond of them myself.
First off, those weights are really heavy! Yea, and if you don’t have someone to spot you, you might near kill yourself. Secondly, nobody ever smiles! Ever! That’s just not cool. How can something as universal as smiling be looked down upon? It seems like everyone is out to “out-buff” the other person and smiling is a sign of weakness. Oh, and don’t even try talking to anybody. They’ll give you this look like you’re the scum from underneath their feet. It seems as if everyone’s super insecure because the next guy is “more cut” or has bigger biceps than they do and to get over it they have to be seen lifting twice as much as the other guy—even if it looks like cruel and unusual punishment.
It’s like a jungle sometimes. Often when I’m there, all I see are large beastly men with muscles where I never thought they could grow, walking around like apes, pulling on bars, teeth clenched, eyes popping, and grunting very loudly. That kind of environment just makes for tense situations where people embrace irrational decision making. I learned that the general rule of, “If you can’t lift it, put it down,” has been rejected by gyms worldwide. You see guys who look like they’re being electrocuted, shaking frantically trying to lift weights that are just too heavy. I tend to treat weights like kids; the bigger they are, the less you want to pick them up.
But on occasion, I’ll pretend I don’t know anything about working out (pshh, like I need to pretend!), and randomly ask someone to show me the ropes. At this point their egos swell and they say something like: “Well, what you really need to do is work your quadrazoids on the tri-galacto machine over there. And make sure you lift at least 300Ibs, otherwise you’ll ruin the work-out”
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