Sunday, April 21, 2013

Fashion Girls

\When I go to the gym, I go planning to break a sweat.

I know, what a crazy idea!

I can't think of any other reason that I would actually haul myself all the way down there and spend time changing into and out of workout clothes. What's the point of all that effort if you don't even work hard enough to see and feel the evidence on your skin?

To think of hauling myself to the gym and changing into and out of designer workout clothes just makes me giggle. I personally wouldn't even buy designer workout clothes, because I wouldn't want to get them all sweaty.

Maybe that's the reasoning that the Fashion Girls use.

The Fashion Girls strut into the gym, in pairs or trios, always chatting with each other. These girls defined the popular clique in high school, and they knew it. (What they don't know is that they aren't in high school anymore.) In a cloud of scent, they disappear into the locker room, emerging clad in designer label, tight, bright clothes. Their faces are made up, and not one strand of long hair dares fall out of place. They take a catwalk tour of the entire facility, gracing as many people as possible with their presence. Sometimes, they even pick up light hand weights on their journey, before settling before a railing and commencing their workout.

They chat. They scope out the guys playing basketball in the court below. They lift their hand weights for just a moment and then they laugh, surreptitiously glancing around to see who's watching. It's a hard ten minutes of gossip. Sometimes even fifteen!

Not one drop of sweat.

Then it's back to the locker room, having successfully protected the considerable investment made in their workout clothes by keeping them as clean as possible.

I catch sight of them as I walk between machines or circle the track, wearing an over-sized t-shirt and worn out bicycle shorts. I've got a headband holding back my uncoiffed hair from my eyes and it's drenched with sweat. There's nothing designer about me, but I'm working my butt off and enjoying every minute.

I guess if it satisfies them, then their workout is just as good for them as mine is for me. But still, a part of me is gleeful thinking of the day, however many years in the future, when their metabolisms finally quit on them, and they discover first-hand that, in and of itself, the act of going to the gym doesn't burn calories.

Friday, April 12, 2013

The Stench of Victory

The gym smells.

There's no way around it. Cram people into an enclosed space, no matter how spacious, and let them sweat for hours at a time, and there will be smells.

Now, I'm not saying that the gym I go to stinks. It doesn't, and, in fact, I've rarely been able to discern a bad odor in the place overall (okay, that one time they did the overnight dance marathon, it got nose-wrinkly the next morning). But, as noted above, people sweating tends to generate smells.

Some people go for the preemptive strike, layering on so much cologne/body spray/febreeze onto themselves that no bodily odor can escape. This also has the effect of alerting others to their presence, often from yards away. Also useful if they leave something behind on a machine, since they can then be tracked down by scent.

I hate that tactic.

I believe that if I'm smelling your cologne, etc..., then we should be, at the least, shaking hands, if not hugging. I don't want to smell it from the next machine over, or (it happens) two or three machines over. The smells irritate my nose and make me feel like I can't breathe. They also can cause coughing fits for my husband, thanks to some damage sustained on an aircraft carrier that makes his lungs extra-sensitive.

We like to joke, if they have to put that much perfume/cologne/body spray on, then just imagine how horrible they must smell without it! But we'd really rather not have to trot that one out as we gasp for air during aerobic workouts. This is a gym. You're probably going to get a little smelly. That's okay!

What's not okay is when you get more than a little smelly. I know, I just told you not to cover it up, but there's a difference between working out, when you break a sweat and get stinky, and wearing the same clothes to do that many days in a row without washing said clothes (or possibly said self). This creates the same miasma of the cologne lovers, with that extra acrid whiff of dirty socks. Not pleasant.

And then there's the source of stink that no one likes to talk about. I see occasional articles in running or fitness magazines about the phenomenon of farting while running. They usually suggest things like ignoring it, because everyone does it. We're all human; we all have gas in our digestive tracks that occasionally needs to be released into the air that everyone has to breathe. To point out the fartings of others is to invite your own emissions for scrutiny when you, inevitably, emit your own.

But these articles mostly refer to running outside, in a group of runners, either known to you or only encountered briefly in a race. On a treadmill, surrounded by strangers, that fart is more difficult to handle. Until last week, I has successfully dealt with the occasional emissions (my own and others) by ignoring them. But the other day, as I treadmilled along, I had to let one slip. There was one person to my right, clopping along at a good clip, and I mentally apologized and proceeded to ignore my own stench.

She did not.

My cheeks would have turned red, had they not already been there from inclining in boots for the first time this season, as she waved one hand across her face and held her nose with the other. The universal stink-alert face.

I kept going, and I begged my body not to do it again, at least, not while she continued to clop along beside me. As long as I didn't admit fault, I reasoned, I could go by the old 'she who smelt it, dealt it,' rule, in case others came to complain about the horrendous stench.

But no one did.

After all, this is a gym. A place where people expect to get sweaty (or at least expect that other people will get sweaty - fashion girls, I'm talking to you!). And a place where people are going to fart sometimes, in the pursuit of fitness. I won't even complain anymore about the over-cologners or the non-washers. It's all the stench of victory to me.