Work It Out

I work out at a place that's only about 7 minutes from my apartment. It's across the street from a cemetary. I think maybe that's so we see what could happen if we don't stay healthy? Maybe? Anyway. Here are a few other thoughts on working out.

I don't understand the jazzed up versions of already bad songs. Didn't think Shakira could get any worse? Think again. Actually, it's more of a travesty to see great songs from the Beach Boys given the 80's treatment- sped up and given a heavy beat. Not okay. This is why I now work out with my iPod-- volume always turned up to hide the strains of songs like the ridiculously overplayed "Unwritten."

There are several paintings of oddly distorted anorexic-looking women in bathing suits on the walls. Is this supposed to be encouraging? I do not want to look like that, thanks.

It's awkward when there's only one other person working out, and they are directly across the room for me. I usually acknowledge them with one of those "Oh-here-we-are-again-working-out-don't-you-hate-it" smiles and then look away. But then as time progresses, I have a hard time diverting my eyes so we're not just staring at each other. So then I'm trying to look like I'm very casually reading that poster over there about healthy eating habits because it's so interesting. I just need to read it again. I had forgotten that part....about the fruits....

The employee who's usually there when I'm there is very perky. It must be hard to stay perky there, with all the sweaty people and the exercise and everything. But she's always perky!

I just love it when there are dozens of open machines, but for unknown reasons someone has decided to get on the machine RIGHT NEXT TO ME. Why is that? I know it's not the witty conversation-- I have my earbuds in. I CAN'T HEAR YOU.

I also don't love the super-bouncy overachievers who, let's face it, only want to make everyone else look bad. Just sit down.

There are several little 'encouraging' signs posted everywhere. "You can do it!" "Doin' Good!" "Don't give up!" These seem to have an opposite effect on me. I don't feel encouraged, I want to tell the signs to shut up, and then maybe rip them off the wall on my way out.

Is there a more freeing moment than the one that finds you leaving the gym, having finished your exercise regimine? Bliss.

Oh, and a special note to the squat machine: I hate you.