Gym Rats and Divas

Saturday I attempted death-by-treadmill, running using the hill program. Barely five minutes into my 3-mile-planned jog, I nearly choked to death as a wave of cologne hit me. At least I think it was cologne. (It was awfully flowery, but I checked out my fellow exercisers, and I was surrounded by two men on each side.) Oh, it was terrible. Every time I'd try to breathe, I'd end up smothering myself with that smell that burned my throat. I swear I could even taste it. That's what I get for working out next to a diva, I guess.

Maybe it's a little bit rude of me, but I've started categorizing people at the gym. I don't really intend to stare at people. After all, when I'm sticky and panting and wearing sweat-stained clothes, I don't want people staring at me. But sometimes I do find myself watching others, if only to take my mind off the current torture I'm trying to endure. Since I've been actively visiting our local YMCA for most of the last three and a half years, I've seen a lot of the same people quite a bit, even if I only stare at them for a minute at a time here and there. Adds up to a lot of hours of people-watching. Some of it has been awe-inspiring, sometimes I want to roll my eyes, and sometimes it is hilariously entertaining. In the end, I've ended up with four main categories of exercisers at my gym.

First, there are the divas. Usually, they are women (though I have occasionally seen a male who fits this description-- like the cologne dude.) They show up at the gym in impeccably matched, brand name workout clothes, with their hair and makeup ready for a photo shoot. Then they proceed to workout ever-so-lightly (wouldn't want to work up a sweat, you know.) Most of the workout is actually spent chatting with their friends. I don't begrudge them their social hour. Hey, I understand. Free childcare and time to chat or read People. Everyone needs a break.

Then, there are the normal folk who are clearly there because they are trying to drop pounds. These gym goers usually wear baggy, hide-my-body-at-all-costs kind of outfits. They do try to work up a sweat though. Depending on how long they've been going to the gym, they may actually work out pretty intensely. This crowd is very changeable though. I suspect this group has normal life interfering in their gym schedules at times because I usually don't see the same people from this group all that often. Either they work out at whatever random time they can fit it in, or they quit coming for some reason. (Like me with the pregnancies.) However, those who I see consistently usually end up in the next category.

The third general group is the "I'm pretty fit but I drag my butt here so I stay that way" group. I actually started out belonging to the second one, but I guess I've migrated into this one. These are the people you end up knowing after awhile, and you smile and give them The Nod as you start on the treadmill next to them (even though you don't know their names). However, we never stop to talk because dang it, we've got calories to burn and we need to get it over with so we can go on with our day.

The fourth group are the scary ones. These are the people who win all the workout contests the Y sponsors because they exercise for thirty hours a week. The women are toned and ripped and can run like five miles before their time limit is up on the treadmill. We have a trio of women who do the hard core interval/circuit training and make me feel nauseous just by watching them. And they are there every morning, without fail. The men lift enough weights to look like Arnold before hitting the exercise bike and riding long enough to travel halfway across the country. I don't watch these people for long because like I said, I start feeling sick, just as if I was actually trying to do their insane workouts.

The funniest guys I got to watch haven't come in years now, but they were my prime entertainment when we first started coming. They were two men in about their 30's who always came together. I don't know exactly where to place them. They didn't need to lose weight, but they never worked hard enough to be in the fit group and certainly not in the hard core group. I guess they would be divas without the fashion sense. But these guys! They would act all tough and "Arnold-ish" while even a novice like me could see that they didn't have a clue what they were doing. They rested about ten minutes between each very short set of exercises, and they would grunt with exertion even though their weights weren't much different from what I used. But it was the general air of "King of the Gym" that both these guys exuded that was so hilarious. Unfortunately, that kingly mentality led them to pick a fight with an off-duty cop who was also working out, and they were banned from the Y. It was sad. Then I had to go back to trying to force myself to watch ESPN for a distraction. Oh well. I guess I can't have my cake and eat it too. Most of my fellow gym rats are just too normal. Here's to hoping someone a bit freakish decides to join my Y soon!