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Archive for the ‘workout’ Category

24 Hour Dust Bunnies

My gym gets a lot of traffic but this is ridiculous.
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A Scene From A Gym

This is a typical scene in my gym because the lazy fucks who work out there don’t restack the weights.
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My Thought For The Day

If your workout t-shirt has a logo from the 1994 High School Rugby Games that can barely be read, it’s time to pitch it and get a new one. I guess I’m a little bitchy today.

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An Odd Trend

When I was in Catholic school the girls had to wear skirts and knee-high socks. The hem of the skirt had to touch the ground when kneeling. Some girls would roll their waste bands to make their skirts shorter. The nuns would often make random skirt checks if they thought the hem was too short. Violators were given detention.

Some of the younger guys at the gym have started wearing knee-high black socks. Add in a pair of below-the-knee black baggy workout pants and the guys look like the Catholic grade school girls from my youth. I find this trend rather odd.

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Gym Rant – Magazines

The gym members donate various periodicals to the communal magazine rack. Why do people bring their used cooking magazines to the gym after they have clipped countless articles rendering the issue unreadable? Just toss the issue in the recycle bin at home. There’s no need to bring it to the gym.

Another issue with magazines is that it seems as if there are always six or more copies of Vogue, Marie Claire, Harper’s Bazaar, Glamour, Cosmopolitan or Elle. Yet there is usually only one issue of Details, The Economist, Time, Newsweek or GQ.

Why are people only capable of returning magazines to the top rack making it look like on overstuffed gyro? There’s a reason the magazine rack has ten levels.

Why do people leave their magazines on the cardio machines? Oddly, it seems that women are most often the offenders at my gym. Your mother isn’t at the gym to clean up after you. You’re there to work out so return your reading material to the magazine rack. You’re a lazy fuck if you do this.

I feel much better now.

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Who Is She?

There’s a woman I keep seeing at the gym on weekends. She’s probably over forty but it’s hard to tell. She resembles Julia Duffy. Her white blond hair seems to be her natural color because I never see roots of another color. Her hair is usually pulled up in a high ponytail or a messy French twist. She’s medium height and slim. I keep noticing her because of her gym attire. She has a plethora of athletic wear which enables her to create inventive and fashionable looks. Saturday she was wearing white hi top Keds, leggings with quarter inch stripes of blue, white, black and grey, a black ten inch skirt with four two inch long pleats in the center front and center back, a scoop neck grey loose fitting tank over a black sports bra. The ensemble was topped by a workout jacket with a blazer cut that looked like it could have walked down an Alaïa runway show. She’s not just a gym fashionista because she does a rather intense workout consisting of free weights, machines and cardio. Why is she working out at my cruddy financially struggling gym which was just bought by a competing national chain? Why isn’t she working out at one of the high end gyms like Pura Vida or Cherry Creek Athletic Club? Who is she?

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My gym is not a fancy place. It’s a national chain. It’s not a high end gym like Pura Vida or the Cherry Creek Athletic Club. I don’t expect a lot from the gym. I don’t need a pool or an indoor running track. I just need the basics. A few weight machines, free weights and cardio machines. My gym suits my needs.

While doing squats on Friday I was disgusted by the spit marks on the mirror in front of me. It looked like the stars on the ceiling of a planetarium. Instead of gazing at stars I was staring at a million drops of spit that had dried on the mirror. It was a milky way of saliva drops. I moved on to a leg press machine for more muscle torture. The small gust of wind created by dropping my towel on the floor forced a group of dust bunnies to scurry into the aisle. I made a mental note to quit dropping my towel on the floor. I started to notice the gym is really filthy. Even though the gym employs a cleaner he seems to be oblivious to the dust and grime on the machines and under the weight stacks. There are dust bunnies everywhere. I don’t expect the gym to be a pristine place but I don’t expect to see dust bunnies. I’m thankful that I live a few blocks from the gym so I don’t have to use the showers. I can’t image the horrors that I would find in there.

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