It's that time of year again.
I absolutely abhor this time of year at the gym. It's the New Year resolution crowd...
Staaaanding in this corner we have Mrs. I'm Going to Lose Weight so My Husband Won't Sleep Around As Much Anymore.. weighing in at 30 lbs more than she wants to be.
Iiiiin the opposite corner we have The Highschooler Who is Going to Get so Buff so Fast... drinking his 3rd protein shake and flexing in the mirror.
*sigh*
I have a routine now when I have a bad day. I go home, flip open the cook book, find a recipe that requires more than 1 stick of butter and then I make it. After consuming the awesomeness that usually results I head towards the gym to work out 8+ hours of workplace stress, anger and frustration.
I don't need people bumping into me. I don't need the guy posing for his friend's cell phone camera, "Dude, come on, take a picture of me so that the rest of Facebook will know I'm at the gym." I don't need the guy constantly on his iPhone who is constantly calling up people to tell them he's at the gym, "Dude, guess where I AM RIGHT NOW?!" (The correct answer to that is 3 feet away from an angry little man who will throw you out the window if you don't hang up RIGHT NOW)
I don't mind newbs, I'm willing to spot anybody who asks, but people who don't pay attention to where they are irk me. You bump me while I'm lifting and somebody's bound to get hurt, either from a dropped weight or a fist in the face. People spend more time preening in front of the mirror, showing off that 1/2 an ounce of muscle they've gained, than they actually spend lifting.
My only solace is that in about a month, most of the pricks will have given up, hurt themselves, or gotten their ass kicked by somebody who couldn't take it anymore.
Staaaanding in this corner we have Mrs. I'm Going to Lose Weight so My Husband Won't Sleep Around As Much Anymore.. weighing in at 30 lbs more than she wants to be.
Iiiiin the opposite corner we have The Highschooler Who is Going to Get so Buff so Fast... drinking his 3rd protein shake and flexing in the mirror.
*sigh*
I have a routine now when I have a bad day. I go home, flip open the cook book, find a recipe that requires more than 1 stick of butter and then I make it. After consuming the awesomeness that usually results I head towards the gym to work out 8+ hours of workplace stress, anger and frustration.
I don't need people bumping into me. I don't need the guy posing for his friend's cell phone camera, "Dude, come on, take a picture of me so that the rest of Facebook will know I'm at the gym." I don't need the guy constantly on his iPhone who is constantly calling up people to tell them he's at the gym, "Dude, guess where I AM RIGHT NOW?!" (The correct answer to that is 3 feet away from an angry little man who will throw you out the window if you don't hang up RIGHT NOW)
I don't mind newbs, I'm willing to spot anybody who asks, but people who don't pay attention to where they are irk me. You bump me while I'm lifting and somebody's bound to get hurt, either from a dropped weight or a fist in the face. People spend more time preening in front of the mirror, showing off that 1/2 an ounce of muscle they've gained, than they actually spend lifting.
My only solace is that in about a month, most of the pricks will have given up, hurt themselves, or gotten their ass kicked by somebody who couldn't take it anymore.