For a year in the mid-1960's Hunter S. Thompson kept close quarters with the Hells Angels in order to capture the world few dared to know up close. In September 1976 Joseph Dominick Pistone walked out of the FBI for six years, returning in 1981 with enough evidence to take down the Bonanno crime family. In August 2012 I walked into Gold's Gym to trim off an extra chin and shave the gut down a few inches. Hunter, Joseph, and I are linked by a common thread... Our journeys took us into a subculture existing in plain sight of the larger body complete. And changed us all forever.
The gym has a vast array of characters flowing in and out daily with all sorts of motivations for being there. Over time, and with the guidance provided by the Sherpa of Strength, I have been able to identify different species of exercisers, of which most of the common breeds have been documented in this rag.
- The Novice - squeaky clean shoes, fat as a hippo, and aimlessly walking around the gym looking for the magic machine.
- Insanity - "doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results."
- Tourist - those who go to the gym because it's the trend of the week. Usually appearing shortly after a gym sells it's soul for the W.O.D. crowd.
- Weekend Warriors - Saturday morning dudes scrambling through every body party and station to make up for lost time like the gym is their teenage bastard child's monthly visit.
The latest group Jaron and I have classified are those fitness freaks who spend more time in the gym than any other place on earth. They are known as "Flying Dutchman's wallpaper." Over time these permanent fixtures in the weight room or on the cardio equipment start to blend into the surroundings like living wallpaper. One would think they would have a common language, or a sly hand gesture like the low flung hand of stranger outlaw bikers passing on the byways. Nope! Narcissism is a lone ranger in a wilderness of lessers. (Cue melodramatic music at will.)
Part of the crew, part of the ship. I often wonder what the hell these people do for money. Three hours in the gym daily...often midday? Seriously, give me that job. Oh wait, I have that job. For those of you who have spent the kind of time in a gym that Ole JT has, the stereotypes listed should ring true. Having spent 10 hours a day in a gym for the last 6 years, allow me to expand the list.
ReplyDelete1. The Student
Only takes classes. Studies the class schedule like they were gaining credits for it. Is convinced that this will work better than doing it on their own. Makes no progress, as none of these mockeries of fitness were designed for their goals.
2. The Mocking Jay
Watches the fit people and/or the trainers and does what they have seen after the subject has moved on.
3. The Subscriber
Brings his muscle mag to the gym and follows the inane workouts detailed in the rag.
4. The Gym Idol
Headphones on, complete lack of self awareness. Singing to the music at top volume on the treadmill...poorly. (Sadly, a guy trait)
5. The hoarder
Establishes a collection of all the most popular dumbells around his bench and monopolizes them for 45 minutes.
6. The safety expert
Wears his weight belt on chest day, wrist straps on leg day, knee bases on both knees, and occasionally safety goggles when not playing racquetball.
7. The comment box filler
Always something wrong with the gym: too hot, too cold, we need more rowing machines, the water fountains aren't producing cold water (still free, right), there's no 5am spin class on Tuesday, why don't you put in a pool? Seriously! Do you know what it would cost to add a pool to an existing strip mall gym?! Your $9.95 a month should cover that!
But I'm not jaded. Life amongst the knuckle draggers is heaven compared to life in a cubicle. If anything, it's the gift that keeps on giving. Constant comic fodder. Something has to fuel 100+ blog posts in less that two years. Don't even get me started on the gym nicknames I give to specific awkward gym folk. (Teaser..."Weekend at Bernies", "Prancer")