I realized that is very much NOT the effect I wish to have on my blog, although there will always be space for emotional reminiscences, if there are too many of them no one will want to read it. Life is too short to always be covering it with rain clouds (Did you know that word can be hyphenated? Rain-clouds. huh, who knew?).
After that little realization I decided to erase what I'm sure was several pages and start over, A N D here we go.
Recently I've been going to the gym and lifting weights with my roommate B. B, though probably half my size is ripped like a freakin' tank. With an ample dose of humility he encourages me to continue lifting, even though it is embarrassing to the Nth degree to have to remove all the weights he puts on the bar and just lift the bar itself. What I laugh at is gym culture. I'm sure that if i decided to get a PhD. in anthropology, or biology or something else, then I could make a great dissertation about the role of the Alpha Male.
For those of you not really familiar with this, there are certain herd of animals where it is mostly women with a dominant male. This male drives off all the baby males early on in order to prevent them from stealing his women. Eventually he will be overthrown and some new pup will step in and take over.
never in my life have I seen more people vying for the role of Alpha male then at the gym.
Just last night we were getting to the end of the workout. Now we try and mix things up, and provide a little bit of variety. B says this is to help the muscles (but he could tell me it is because there is a ghost in the room that will attack anyone who uses the same machine too often, and I would believe him. I'm pretty naive. the real reason is probably that he is stronger than I am, and is sick of being stuck at the same weight level I am). after 12 sets of Triceps and 11 of chest we were ready to finish our last bench press. We lowered the weight on the bar and just decided to do 50 reps. My arms were shot, and this seemed like an exceptionally high goal, so I took the bar (remember, you can't get any lower weight then a bar) and I struggled to get through with ten. I decided I would just keep going in sets of ten while B threw more weight on his bar and was working for 100.
On about rep 25 I noticed, out of the corner of my eye, that someone was standing off to the side watching me. My anxiety levels jumped through the roof. not only was I already feeling self conscious about ONLY lifting the bar, but now I had an audience. I decided to pay him no heed. Eventually I made it to rep 40, and he was still there starring. As I started my way to rep 45 I lost it. With a look akin to Norman Bates or some other fictional serial killer, I turned my face and starred directly at him, and making eye contact. I'm sure the 45 lbs bar, and the blood rushing to my face contributed, but I've never seen anyone get so flustered in my life. he quickly fumbled with a dumbbell and started his workout.
Listen Alpha Male! i understand that you've been at this whole, gym, thing for a very long time. I'm impressed that you can lift so much weight, but if you think starring at me is going to make your workout go any faster you're wrong. Also, I'm the king-do you hear me-the king of awkward (please note the blog post titled Ebony and Ivory).
Is this a common occurrence in gym culture, this-eyeing-people-up-and-down? Shouldn't they maybe be more encouraging like the trainers on the Biggest Loser? I don't see Jillian casting disparaging glances at those trying to get in shape. I do see fear, but that is a different story. Anyway Gym Monkey, unless you want me to go all-Norman-Bates on you, I suggest you get back to your own workout.
This took me way longer to write than I thought. Wish me luck as I finish my paper for school.
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