Despite my initial trepidation about going to The Gym, I have started get the hang of things, and at times, I even enjoy my sweaty little jaunts there after work.
No one is more surprised by this than me. Even my Better Half, after getting over the shock of seeing me come home with my gym bag time after time, is all glowy at my newfound interest in exercise. To him, this is an exciting opportunity to talk to someone about the joys of chin-ups and firming one's deltoids.
I will take no part in such chicanery. The day I can do a chin-up will be the same day that I will locate a deltoid somewhere on my body. Even if I did try to locate such a thing, I would probably be distracted by a sugary treat and forget the challenge all together. Sweeties above muscles, I say.
And still, I've enjoyed seeing myself get better with each visit. I can now do more than ten minutes of cardio, which I could not have said upon my first try. I am also able to do 20 sit ups, when I could not do a single one earlier this year. I was in such awful shape that I would get drastically out of breath when I ran for a bus. I still get out of breath now, but I don't feel like I might die before I get to work. This is convenient.
Plus, things are tightening. I haven't lost any weight, but I am noticing subtle changes in the landscape. Happier tummy. Cheerier backside. Stronger legs. Who knew that exercise could be so productive?
I am not a full convert, however, and there are some parts of The Gym which puzzle me to no extent.
1. Loud, obnoxious commercial radio puking from the speakers. If I wanted to listen to loud and obnoxious commercial radio, I would do so in the comfort of my own home. Probably after checking myself into the hospital for having an allergic reaction to bad advertising and crappy music.
2. Grunting men. Gents, why must you grunt so loudly when you lift weights? I understand that, by definition, weights are heavy. Still, nobody wants to hear sounds that should be reserved for a bathroom stall when they are stretching. I refuse to believe that this is necessary to build up your deltoids, or whatever the hell you are sweating over.
3. Starers. Of course you will see the people at your Gym, and you will probably watch them from time to time as they grunt or wheeze or trip on something. But stare? Rude and creepy. If you are looking to pick up, get thee to a more appropriate venue, please.
4. Fashionistas. When I work out, I wear old, comfortable clothes that I can sweat on. I don't wear around $300 worth of spandex which I have colour-coordinated with my socks. Now, I can see the benefit of good, comfortable gym clothes. Even something quasi-expensive could have its perks. But wearing gym clothes that you could convincingly wear to a night club? Gimmeabreak.