I’ve covered the experience of being in the gym locker room at LA Fitness but never got to tell you about all the wonderful stuff that happens in addition to seeing things that should be exorcised by the dudes in Supernatural. So let’s assume that I have arrived, changed and made my way on to the gym floor.
When I’m in the gym, I have a job to do. Sure, I’d much rather be sitting on the couch at home with the remote than running on a treadmill. Just the fact alone that I need to be in this place is bad enough. I need to do what I’ve got to do and get out. Period. But many of the others that are in this habitat have different agendas.
There are five different categories to describe the typical person who holds a membership to LA Fitness. The vain Jocks, The Posers, The Models, The Talkers and then there’s people like ME . I classify myself mostly between the beautiful model (male of course) and the athletic jock (well, at least that’s what everyone tells me).
First there are the vain Jocks. These are the ones who usually come in wearing athletic sportswear and new Nike cross training shoes. These cats are usually in reasonable shape and should be out running track on the high school field across the street and not hogging up my precious gym equipment (I call it MY equipment because when I’m in “da house” well, it’s MINE).
Next are the beloved Posers. These are people who shouldn’t be in the gym at all. They’re the muscle heads who like to congregate and go all out on every last set using every last dumbbell on the rack. You can typically tell who they are because they are primarily male, carry around bottles of protein and creatine drinks and, if not showing the disproportion of their big chests compared to their small head, usually wear hooded sweatshirts with the hood up over said head. I believe having this hood up is to keep their identity secret lest they be laughed to scorn.
The Models are next on the list. These are the beautiful women who walk around the gym in skimpy clothing. They have ZERO pounds of weight to lose. They are toned and tanned. They can also on most occasions be found on a treadmill going no where for hours or in the company of a Poser who is showing them the ropes.
They can be dangerous because they can lead people like ME to lift weights beyond their means in an effort to impress them. It’s a tough decision between eye candy and safety but I’d have to err on the side of caution. Sorry ladies. But I’m sure you girls will all forgive me the next time you see me flex.
Next there are the Talkers. Of all the ones that piss me off the most, these are the ones. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve walked over to a piece of equipment only to find a bunch of people sitting around it having a conversation. These are the people who can spend hours chit-chatting. Ironically, they also always seem to be the same people who have no problem walking around naked in the locker room with a body that shows the results of all the hard work they did at the machine.
Finally, there are people like me. The ones who will never bench 400 pounds or win a Mr. Olympia. We’re the ones who don’t want to be there at all but really have no choice. We just want to stay reasonably active and keep the age-mass phenomena at bay for as long as possible. That’s why we do what we do.
So as you can see, the “fun” in the gym isn’t just restricted to the locker room. It extends out to the floor as well. And don’t even get me started about the rumors I’ve heard about what goes on in the swimming pool.