New Year's Resolutions - The Gym
by Meghan_Hill
 Meghan's Musings
December 29, 2011 08:48 AM | 883 views | 0 0 comments | 11 11 recommendations | email to a friend | print | permalink
As the Christmas lights dim and the credit card bills begin to pour in, the realization of a New Year brings the dread of New Year's Resolution’s. According to USA.gov, three of the top ten New Year’s Resolutions have to do with weight, food or getting fit. For many, this means a sparkling new gym membership, or dusting off the old, cobweb covered gym membership and hitting the gym. If you are one of the millions of Americans that will be adding the gym to your New Year to–do list for the first time (or are retuning after a hiatus) you should be warned about the people you'll find at the gym. And yes, I’ll be one of them.

You'll encounter some rather interesting people even before you enter the gym as you observe the phenomena that is usually reserved exclusively for the Lenox Mall parking lot on Black Friday: Parking Space Pouncing. Sure, there may be plenty of spaces, but these folks will actually sit in their cars, idling at the curb, waiting for people leave the gym to see where they are parked, then RACE to get the closest parking space possible to the door...all so they don’t have to walk through the parking lot.

Yes, at the gym.

Once inside the gym, you hit the locker room. Here you will find people on both ends of the modesty spectrum. In one corner, you find a lady doing some kind of Cirque du Soleil contortionist act in an effort to put an entire outfit on without unwrapping her towel. Yet in the other corner, you’ll find the Grandma who just came out of the Arthritis Water Aerobics class. She’s already tossed her suit into the dryer and is now strutting through the locker room like she OWNS the place.

WITHOUT a towel.

As you exit the locker room, head over to the cardio area, or as I like to call it, the hook-up lounge. This is where all the beautiful people hang out--the ones who go to the gym to find Mr. Right...or Mr. Right NOW.

These ladies get dressed up to work out. They’re wearing sassy, unwrinkled outfits that match down to their socks with perfectly coiffed, flowing hair and flawless makeup that would make a Mary Kay rep blush. They talk on the phone or read Entertainment Weekly or check out the guy bench pressing a bus in the corner. These beauties clock a speedy 1.9 on the treadmill and NEVER break a sweat. Meanwhile, two treadmills down, in a sweat-drenched tee-shirt that reads “I'm in shape. Round is a shape.”, with hair dripping and a face like a wet tomato as I’m pounding out a workout can be measured on the Richter scale. After going through THREE towels trying to wipe away my sweat, I’m WISHING I had the towel that the Grandma wasn’t using back in the locker room.

And we haven’t even gotten to the yoga studio yet. I took a new (to me) yoga class a few months ago at my gym. I’ve taken a number of yoga classes, so I know what to do—grab a mat, grab a block, find a strap, start “moh-ing” (or is it “ohm” ing? I always get it backwards).

So I’m all set up trying to blend in with the people around me and the size 2 instructor looks at me and says “Hi, you know this is a yoga II class, right?”

“Well…I’m not sure what the II is for, but…”

“This is the ADVANCED yoga class.”

“Oh, that’s fine, I’ll just do my best.”

“Wow,” she says in a very grave, serious voice, “that is a very advanced way of thinking for any yoga practicioner.”

Excuse me? What the heck have I just gotten myself into?

As the class goes on and the instructor was discussing some muscle called the psoas or something…and mentioned that the muscle is very long and lean and on a cow, it is the tenderloin.

I closed my eyes and thought “mmmm...Tenderloin, it’s what’s for dinner”. When I open my eyes, all fifteen pale, emaciated vegans turned to look at me like I’d just sacrificed a baby kitten in the middle of my yoga mat.

Either they all read my mind, or I think pretty loudly. Either way, the tenderloin I had for dinner that night was AWESOME!

So as you hit the gym this January, enjoy watching all those entertaining people around you but remember, I just may be the one two rows back watching you.
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