Gymuary

Oh, Gymuary. It seems that every year I blog about this amazing phenomenon.  For six months, you can toss a dumbbell down the middle of the weight section and not hit a soul. Suddenly, on January 1st there is a warren of gym bunnies hopping around the place. This year; however, I am one of the unkempt masses wandering around a new gym.

I was really excited about by new employment being so close to the 24Hour fitness in Boulder. I reminded me of living in Dallas when I could walk to my gym. As I excitedly walked into my new home-away-from-home it quickly dawned on me, I was attending this new congregation on the first week of January. Just like everyone else.

It is easy to spot the “newbies” in three ways; the easiest is by their plumage. Sweatpants that are a little too tight, since it hasn’t been asked to stretch over the newly expanded frame. The “I just bought new workout gear and it all goes together” guy that’s sporting an all aqua and chartreuse Nike ensemble. Not a single natural fiber on his body, bless.  And my particular favorite way is the “I read a massive amount of information in regard to how to workout in a gym” guy.

And this is were by petty bitchyness kicks in, because with all the information out there on “how’ to lift weights, and all the YouTube videos on pushing plates, there isn’t any information on how to be a considerate gym mate. A lot of YouTube videos will demonstrate how to super-set your routine, yet fails to mention that setting up five stations of weights around benches and stacking bars full of plates may help you, yet pisses off every bro that is forced to work around your inconsiderateness.  Just because you place a towel on a bench does not mean the bench is now your solvent territory. A terrycloth is not a British flag; the weight benches are not India.

Soon Gymuary will over and the routine will become just that, a routine. The dudes that need to utilize their phones to “check-in” with the office from the luxury of the incline bench will either fizzle out, or get tired of taking work calls with me in the background spurting, “Guurl, not a natural fiber on her! Sad.”  Like every year, February has us all back to being good, friendly gym mates.