The Gym
I work out. I never thought that I would say that, but as of about a month and a half ago-its true.
I am buffing myself up for summertime and I hope to be a hottie by June. In the past, I avoided gyms. They seemed to me a den of sweaty, self obsessed, arobasizing freaks in matching spandex who got high off wheatgrass shots at the juice bar while comparing notes on personal trainers. Every time I walked into one of those places I would start to feel the anxiety rise as the girl with the fake and bake tan and acrylic nails gleefully explained that they had a pool, sauna, tanning bed AND a juice bar!!!
"Its like, SO soothing to get some green tea and like, sit in the tanning bed after a HELLA hardcore elliptical session-you know what I mean?!? She squeaked.
Needless to say, I didn't know what she meant and promptly left the building without signing the mandatory 2 year contract. Years went by and I tried and tried to get into the whole scene. The techno music in the background as people grind away on the stair master while staring at themselves in the mirror like freaking Narcissus on ecstasy. It was just too much. I needed something low key and, more importantly, something cheap.
That opportunity arose this past month when Michelle and I decided to join the local gym up the street. It claims to be the "oldest gym in Portland" and when you walk through the doors, you don't doubt it. It is like your grandfather's YMCA. Its tiny, the paint is peeling, the weight training equipment is archaic and there is no juice bar or swimming pool in sight. There was a man who appeared to be in his 70's wheezing away on the one stairmaster and a morbidly obese women attempting situps. Neither one was wearing matching spandex. I knew immediately that this was the gym for me. I paid upfront, there was no contract and it was merely $27 a month. It was time to work out!
I now attend the gym about 4-5 days a week and I am digging it. Of course, there are still people staring at themselves in the mirror-you cant avoid that at any gym-but it's way more low key. Having said this, there are plenty of strange and unusual characters worth mentioning. The cheap prices of this place appeal to all kinds of people and that is exactly what you see there: ALL kinds of people. There is the older gentleman with a pleasant smile who always begins his workout by hopping on the stair master. About 5 minutes into his routine he starts groaning like he is having the best sex of his life.
"Awwwwwww.....oooooooohhhhhhh. YEAH!!! YEsssssssss!!!! OOOOH GAWWWWWDDDD!!!!!!"
This goes on for the entire 20 minutes or so of his routine and by the end of it you would think he actually HAD climaxed by the ecstatic grin spread across his sweaty face. I was blushing in embarrassment the first time I witnessed this, but looking at the unfazed faces around me, it appeared that they were used to it. I found out he has been coming to the gym for at least 20 years.
There is the woman who insists on squawking out what she seems to think are musical notes while listening to her ipod. It comes in spurts and after about 10 minutes of blissful silence, she breaks out into a sound which I can only liken to a feline coital session. It's practically unbearable and I have now made purchasing my own ipod a priority for obvious reasons .
That particular woman has a daughter who, like her mother, has tanned herself to an orange crisp thinking it makes her muscles look better, while in actuality all it does is make her look like a carrot. The mother and daughter duo, when not screeching out guttural noises to the beat of Christina Aguilera, park themselves in front of the mirror, do situps and argue about who has better abs. They also take offense to whoever is on the machine that they want at the moment and stand there with their arms crossed, glaring at you until you are done.
Another character who seems to grace the facility whenever I am there is a man who stays on the elliptical for 2 hours at a time while giving you monologue about how many drugs he's consumed.
"It used to be coke for me man." He pants, sweat beads gleaming on his forehead.
"Coke, whiskey and pills. GOD I loved that shit." He exclaims longingly, a pained look on his face.
"This is the only thing that keeps me straight now, man. Two hours on this thing and I'm high as a motherfucker!! YEAH!!!" He yells as he turns up the resistance to 13, his enormous calves bulging under him.
On days when all those people are there at once, as well as countless others I am not describing -it is colorful to say the least. But, that's the way I like it. I'm the girl with the glasses, dripping with sweat on one of the four ellipticals, reading gossip magazines and trying not the think about the fact that I have 30 more minutes of cardio ahead of me. By summertime I hope to be that hot, buff chick lifting weights in a belly shirt still loving that fact that there aint no juice bar in the joint and there never will be.
I am buffing myself up for summertime and I hope to be a hottie by June. In the past, I avoided gyms. They seemed to me a den of sweaty, self obsessed, arobasizing freaks in matching spandex who got high off wheatgrass shots at the juice bar while comparing notes on personal trainers. Every time I walked into one of those places I would start to feel the anxiety rise as the girl with the fake and bake tan and acrylic nails gleefully explained that they had a pool, sauna, tanning bed AND a juice bar!!!
"Its like, SO soothing to get some green tea and like, sit in the tanning bed after a HELLA hardcore elliptical session-you know what I mean?!? She squeaked.
Needless to say, I didn't know what she meant and promptly left the building without signing the mandatory 2 year contract. Years went by and I tried and tried to get into the whole scene. The techno music in the background as people grind away on the stair master while staring at themselves in the mirror like freaking Narcissus on ecstasy. It was just too much. I needed something low key and, more importantly, something cheap.
That opportunity arose this past month when Michelle and I decided to join the local gym up the street. It claims to be the "oldest gym in Portland" and when you walk through the doors, you don't doubt it. It is like your grandfather's YMCA. Its tiny, the paint is peeling, the weight training equipment is archaic and there is no juice bar or swimming pool in sight. There was a man who appeared to be in his 70's wheezing away on the one stairmaster and a morbidly obese women attempting situps. Neither one was wearing matching spandex. I knew immediately that this was the gym for me. I paid upfront, there was no contract and it was merely $27 a month. It was time to work out!
I now attend the gym about 4-5 days a week and I am digging it. Of course, there are still people staring at themselves in the mirror-you cant avoid that at any gym-but it's way more low key. Having said this, there are plenty of strange and unusual characters worth mentioning. The cheap prices of this place appeal to all kinds of people and that is exactly what you see there: ALL kinds of people. There is the older gentleman with a pleasant smile who always begins his workout by hopping on the stair master. About 5 minutes into his routine he starts groaning like he is having the best sex of his life.
"Awwwwwww.....oooooooohhhhhhh. YEAH!!! YEsssssssss!!!! OOOOH GAWWWWWDDDD!!!!!!"
This goes on for the entire 20 minutes or so of his routine and by the end of it you would think he actually HAD climaxed by the ecstatic grin spread across his sweaty face. I was blushing in embarrassment the first time I witnessed this, but looking at the unfazed faces around me, it appeared that they were used to it. I found out he has been coming to the gym for at least 20 years.
There is the woman who insists on squawking out what she seems to think are musical notes while listening to her ipod. It comes in spurts and after about 10 minutes of blissful silence, she breaks out into a sound which I can only liken to a feline coital session. It's practically unbearable and I have now made purchasing my own ipod a priority for obvious reasons .
That particular woman has a daughter who, like her mother, has tanned herself to an orange crisp thinking it makes her muscles look better, while in actuality all it does is make her look like a carrot. The mother and daughter duo, when not screeching out guttural noises to the beat of Christina Aguilera, park themselves in front of the mirror, do situps and argue about who has better abs. They also take offense to whoever is on the machine that they want at the moment and stand there with their arms crossed, glaring at you until you are done.
Another character who seems to grace the facility whenever I am there is a man who stays on the elliptical for 2 hours at a time while giving you monologue about how many drugs he's consumed.
"It used to be coke for me man." He pants, sweat beads gleaming on his forehead.
"Coke, whiskey and pills. GOD I loved that shit." He exclaims longingly, a pained look on his face.
"This is the only thing that keeps me straight now, man. Two hours on this thing and I'm high as a motherfucker!! YEAH!!!" He yells as he turns up the resistance to 13, his enormous calves bulging under him.
On days when all those people are there at once, as well as countless others I am not describing -it is colorful to say the least. But, that's the way I like it. I'm the girl with the glasses, dripping with sweat on one of the four ellipticals, reading gossip magazines and trying not the think about the fact that I have 30 more minutes of cardio ahead of me. By summertime I hope to be that hot, buff chick lifting weights in a belly shirt still loving that fact that there aint no juice bar in the joint and there never will be.
posted by Selené Emrys at 9:50 PM
1 Comments:
Wuuuhhhuuu goooooo gym!!!!!!!!!!!
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