Tales from the Gym

As you all know, I reluctantly had to purchase a gym membership back in December due to a busted foot. Tragic indeed, made more so because I'm broke. I don't like to talk too much about the gym because, well, I don't like gyms in general. Honestly, this one is fine and if I had more money, I'd probably keep the membership just because it means I have access to strength training equipment and such. But other than that, gyms are always crowded and full of the oddest assortment of humans you will ever find.

Take Stalker Lady, for example. She is at the gym whenever I am. Arriving at the same time. Using the same equipment as me. Not looking as cute as me (lies, all lies).

Or Chest Press Guy. All he does is use the Free Motion chest press apparatus. For a loooooooong time. Usually at the exact moment when I need to use it for my measly two or three sets of 15 reps.

Not to be out-done by GayPhone. I know, it's rude of me to make assumptions, but this gym is in the heart of Boys Town, so really, I'm probably right. Anyway. He's working out but not working out at the same time. In actuality, all he's doing is pacing the floor of the weight room talking AS LOUDLY AS POSSIBLE on his mobile phone. One day he said this: Bitch, please, YOU wanna BOX?!?!?

There's also Fashion Model. She's wearing the latest trends in workout clothes, expertly coordinated. She's also wearing make-up and has a tan. Please keep in mind that it is February in Chicago. She also weighs about 6.5 pounds.

I could go on, but my lunch hour has ended and I can't take much more of my coworkers. Can't you tell how excited I am to go to the gym this evening?

I have a 7 mile run scheduled for Sunday. My right hip flexor is still obnoxiously sore. So much so that I really couldn't go beyond a 10:30 this morning. I guess holding back on what was supposed to be an easy run anyway is a good thing.