I’m on the treadmill, going about my merry way, and over looking the rest of the gym. I was having a Lion King “this is my kingdom moment”, pretending all the other gym go-ers where all my little servants and people whom bow before me. They bring me gifts, and praise me for my endurance, and gawk at my insane hill work.
I see moms in full makeup and jewelry, on the ellipticals, careful not to wrinkle their velour track suits. On the bikes, I see a couple of guys getting a sweat going before they go sit in the sauna for an hour. No joke, I have even seen a woman come out in the swimsuit, cycle furiously, then head back into the sauna. RANDOM.
Then, from out of nowhere, I hear grunting, weights slamming, followed closely by cheers and ‘hooahs’. “This is not authorized in my kingdom” I tell myself. My eyes meander up past the tvs, and aforementioned gym staples, to the land of the gym Gorilla. By the way, I’ve been using this term before Snookie was even around.
The typical gym gorilla is wearing a cut off T, circa 200, referencing some sort of power lifting contest they placed in. They’ll be wearing basketball shorts, more often than not, from a college or university they affiliate themselves with. Walking around the gym in a wide stance, they encourage one another to ‘pump it just one more time, man’ or ‘just hold it for 30 more seconds bro’. While I encourage spotting, please do not talk to me like I am on the set for 90210.
Optional items can include their actual gym bag, a power shake full of swamp-like looking goo, and a ridiculously tight arm band that houses an 92384723 GB iPod. The gym bag is a rare sight, but it is looked after like an infant. This bag can be full of towels, other iPods, pills, Gatorades, Red Bulls, and numerous weight workouts jotted down on the back of receipts. The shake bottle of goo always catches me off guard. Granted, my smoothies sometimes look like goo as well, but it’s savored, and not chugged down all competition-style. Lastly, the iPod. I use one. I’ve even had the arm band. BUT, I do not understand carrying around a heavy iPod, and strapping the band so tight I can see your veins. Plus, if you are changing the song every two seconds, maybe you need a smaller iPod with less selections.
The gym gorilla is a fascinating creature. They stand around in packs, talking about everything under the sun. Often, if you study them enough, you will realize that they’re having social hour at the gym, thrown in with a total of 15 minutes of weights. Between social hour and lifting weights, the Gorilla will find a mirror and pause to look at his muscles, admiring them and dreaming of the day they can rip shirts.
During the hour I spend on the treadmill, I can observe the same people just rotating around the gym; quick elliptical/weights/quick elliptical/weights. This will sometimes give me a disadvantage, as the fans are directly in front of the elliptical, blowing body odor from said Gorilla, into my little solitary area of running.
I might pick on the Gorillas, but I mean no harm. If anything, I am willing to admit that I am intimidated by them, and they’re the reason I don’t want to strength train. I just don’t want to put myself in the middle of the roaming packs. Plus they probably think I’m just a freakish Gazelle like creature who just wants to run all day.