Until recently, I was the proud member of a gym. Proud might be a strong word, but at the very least I was a member of a gym, and tried my best to frequent the completely non-judgmental, non-threatening, ultra clean, smells like roses little piece of heaven that the gym represented in my life. ahem....
So my gym life has pretty much gone as follows.
- Go online
- Research local gyms
- Print off a free seven day pass
- Hit the gym each day for seven days (at least this was always the intended goal. rarely happened. actually, never happened)
- Deftly avoid all phone calls, voicemails, and even the most persistent texts from gym member representatives.
- The end.
I knew I would eventually run out of options, and I did. So obviously my natural course of action was to join the gym that was the least expensive. Surprisingly, I actually started to frequent the gym (even did zumba!), and soon started to see the same people every time I went. You know what I'm talking about; the girls who are always in the trendiest workout clothes and spotless makeup, the guys in sleeveless t-shirts who are constantly checking out their muscles and bulging veins, the guy who puts the yoga mat in the middle of the empty room to do sit-ups (really? is that complete take-over of all usable space necessary?!), and my all-time favorites....the people who are lifting weights and making the loudest and strangest grunting noises you've EVER HEARD IN YOUR LIFE!
Seriously, we've all seen this guy; using a weight machine, acting so dramatic it's like he's up for an oscar. Typically, this is also the type of person who wears weight-lifting gloves. Fingerless. Bad ass. But as soon as he starts to lift the weight, it's like all hell breaks loose and he has to scream and grunt his way through it. Is this a cry for attention? Because it's working.
I can never take my eyes of this person. Is he annoying? I offer an emphatic NO. On the contrary, I am nothing but appreciate of this guy. A workout AND a show? Yes please. Why wouldn't I want something to distract me from burning thighs and hell on earth, aka the stairmaster.
Well...all this to say, I live in a building in downtown Chicago with a sorry excuse for a "gym." Said facility includes two treadmills (one working, and one not), one elliptical circa 1980, a weight machine, a set of free weights, and a ceiling so low that hitting your head while running on the treadmill is a given. Oh, and a GIANT fan that will blow you over if you turn it on high. The room is tiny, and almost motivation to NOT work out. Nevertheless, I headed up yesterday to get my sweat on.
There were three of us working out at the same time. Myself, and two guys. To my surprise and joy, one of them was a weight-lifting grunter! And let me tell you, the sound really resonated in that small space. It really brought a lot of joy into my life yesterday. Hopefully I'll be seeing (and hearing) him again soon! :)
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