Olivia Newton-John's music video for her timeless classic "Physical" will always make me uncomfortable. And by video, I obviously mean her haircut.
I joined a Bally's Total Fitness that opened up near my neighborhood. I thought that paying for my own gym membership would motivate me to go and I'd be in rockin' shape in a matter of weeks.
Consequently, I spend most of my time laying on a mat on the floor, having a near asthma attack, and people watching.
There is no better place in the world to people watch than at a health club on a Monday morning. Everyone assumes that the "weirdos" of the world come out at night, hiding behind trees and watching from a distance.
Nay. Nay I say. They are all actually out at 11 am in broad daylight at the Bally's Fitness on 103rd and Cicero...and they are all on the treadmills next to me.
I'm not much of a chatty cathy when I go to work out. Generally, I'm on a pretty direct mission to get in there, lift, run, and cry in the bathroom when I realize I can no longer lift my arms over my head. So when strangers try to talk to me as I'm hanging onto the treadmill for dear life and letting my lifeless body skid over the track, I'm not in much of a mood to respond.
What I am in the mood for, however, is watching people jam out to WHAM! while climbing the Stairmaster.
Case 1: Bros
I know I cannot make remarks on young adults who are at the gym in the middle of the day because I too am only kind-of employed*. But the amount of hair products I see walking over to the "man" side of the gym (you all know what I'm talking about) is incredible. The height of the hair is just amazing to me.
My second favorite part of this demographic is their attire because, let's face it, who doesn't love a guy in a Wrestlemania sleeveless shirt?
Me. I don't love that. I don't want to see you wear a sleeveless shirt and a sweatband. You look like Olivia Newton-John (and that, my friends, is not a compliment).
In an effort to increase the awkwardness of this gym section (as if the grunting wasn't enough), I have volunteered (to no one) to be the only girl who dares cross the threshold into All-Man's Land. There's nothing better than the look I get as I almost crush myself under a 25 lb weight from the guy next to me pressing 250lb.
But he was wearing a Looney Tunes shirt. So I still feel cool.
Case 2: Short-Shorts Man
Short-Shorts Man (SSM) is my favorite. person. on. earth. Everyday, this man takes about 30 laps around the gym to survey all the ladies.
He looks just like this, except he's 65, wears a toupee and wears a nice pair of cerulean lycra shorts from 1986.
He also sports high white socks and bright white New Balance gymshoes.
Talk about a dreamboat.
Anyway, SSM especially likes to shake his groove thang as he walks by all the younger ladies. His favorite move as of late is dropping his sweat-saturated towel and ever so slightly pop-locking-dropping his way to the ground and slowly back up. He then looks to the right..and then to the left...and winks.
At me.
Always at me.
"Am I a target for socially awkward situations?" I ask myself, preparing an escape route so this man doesn't lure me into his car with an offer of a Werther's Original and can of warm 7-Up. Because at this point, my jaw has dropped and I am blushing to high heaven.
SSM, of course, EATS THIS UP.
I'm expecting a proposal soon.
