Lactic-Haze

I’ve been thinking about posting this a while, and decided that I need to get this off my chest. I’m fortunate in that I work for a large corporate. We have a office park with over 600 people here. The park has a small gym, where I shower after my cycling ride to work. We have a dedicated instructor, but most of the time he is interested in chatting to one of the little tarts, and not really helping those that are there to work out properly. The regulars are a mixed bunch, in no particular order.

The gym regulars:

The Bodybuilder: There used to be two guys. Quite a bit of bodyfat, but legs and arms the size of tree trunks, both working out hard. One has stopped coming to the gym regularly, one is still there. Friendly chap, minds his own business, pushes big weights. Respect to him.

The “I’m at the gym” fatties: There’s a few of them, one dude regular as clockwork. I swear in the year I’ve seen him at the gym he hasn’t lost one kg. Listens to his iPod mostly, wanders around. He’s at the gym. Heads to the canteen after gym for a toasted sarmie. He is wasting his time.

The “I want to look good instantly” crowd: In the 3years I have been using the gym I have seen them come and go like clockwork. Guys come to gym, they start training in two’s or three’s. They chat aloud and make sure the tarts see them and hear them mention “I work out to look good”. After about two weeks, they see no progress and don’t come again. Take a cue from the bodybuilder. It took him two years to get that form. Harden the fuck up!

The tart: There’s a few of them. They come around, chat a lot to the gym instructor and they use the step machine. One in particular annoys the hell out of me. Why? On Friday mornings I squeeze in a 5km run before work. She’s there on the treadmill next to me. Her pace is around 5:45m/km. She’s got the little tight outfit on, and enough makeup to make Phantom of the Opera look pale. She runs on the treadmill, by holding on to the front console!!! I kid you not. I come in, set up my workout, and start running. She will glance it me, then try release her hold on the console, only to slide back and have to grab it to hold on. She’s not running, her legs are just moving. Her strides are too long and she plants her feet so hard I fear the treadmill is going to break. Speaking to the instructor to correct her leads to a shrug. Useless!

The joys of a corporate gym…