Thursday, January 21, 2010
The gravel track was closed two days in a row due to heavy rain here in SoCal, so I had to suck in my pride (and gut) to show my face at the gym (membership is free for students and spouses, so that's nice). I took my chances on the elliptical, and it felt so foreign, Like I was pedaling in one of those swan-shaped boats and shifting the gears of a three-story farmer's tracker all at the same time. I couldn't wear my hoodie, way too hot, so I tried the best I could to cover-up my circus-sized bazoombaz, but it is difficult when my size surpasses the letters on the musical scale. I tried to stay focused and enjoy the tunes, but the weirdoes lurking! A twenty-something man with a shaggy dark beard/go-t/soul-patch thing decided to hop on the elliptical right next to me, when there were at least three others empty. I tried to keep a steady pace and just plug away, but I kid you not, this man was trying to race me. He would go in slow motion, and then cruise into a full-on sprint, all the while looking over at me, and the stats on my machine. Then he would do it again, and again. The circa-1980 jazzercise band around his head should have been a dead giveaway that this guy was weird. Banded heads: a sure sign of a Creepy Gym-going Jim. He was off within ten minutes, relief. The scenery wasn't great either. The elliptical machines faced the huge glace windows looking right into the weight room. I had full view of the "Grunters" picking up ridiculously large circles of weight to lift about twice with an "I'm-so-manly" grunt and red-puckered face. I did my best to focus on my workout until I saw something so bizarre I couldn't help myself. A 50-something white man in a full gray sweat get-up, HIKING boots, black leather gloves, and the cherry on top: a bright purple du-rag on his head. But hey, good for him going into that scary sweat-hole with those narcissistic meat heads watching themselves in the mirror; I for one do not have the guts to enter the weight room, yet.