In "following the crowd-January fashion", I, too, have found myself working out at the gym. This is a real gym, equipped with those iron push things that football players move when they train in practice.
The early mornings of Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday is when I participate in this horrible experience.
Lacking the athletic gear, weight gloves, and muscles, I am the obvious newbie. I want these gym rats to like me, but as I observed more and more on Saturday, we are not "cut from the same cloth" as they say.
These people come in, excited about the run in 39 degree weather that I didn't know was going to take place. Petrified, I say, "Uh oh, I didn't wear warm enough clothes." I was encouraged with, "You'll get used to it."
After I run/power walk/come back in the building early without completing because I don't care, I did not, in fact, "get used to it."
We all catch our breath after the run, and this one guy is pumped. I mean pumped. He asks our coach excitedly, "So what do we have for today?" Coach responds with, "4 sets of *gym talk, gym talk*, *gym talk, gym talk* lunges..."
"Very Fit Girl" or VFG runs past us to grab her water, towel or go to the bathroom. Runs. I think to myself, "We get it. You like to run. You win the award." I do remember a sensation in which my eyeballs swirled around in my head. I immediately fuss myself. "Whitney, don't judge. You came into their world. This is like overachievers on steroids. I wonder if anyone is on steroids..."
My thought is interrupted with a loud, "WOOO!" from Over Eager Guy or OEG. My new gym friends yells this in response to OEG. I think it's to pump us up.
As we wait for the slow pokes who did not cut their run short like intelligent me, VFG mentions her new eating regiment. My first thought was: I guess this crowd won't be interested in my biscuit recipe.
As we embarked upon an insane amount of push ups, burpees, and crunches, I thoroughly enjoyed music from days of yore (college)."Maybe we aren't all that different..." I think to myself. "I know some of these songs..."
Not everyone is fit as a fiddle. I was able to encourage the guy on the side of me as he was struggling with the burpees. I told him, "It's okay, just put one leg out without jumping back. And just stand up if you can't jump up."
I credit my old friends for the positive boost I was able to give: 50, Missy, Lil Wayne, Outkast, Eminem.
Our coach paired us up and explained the rotation. I was paired with a cute lady who was fit but not intimidating-fit. Thankful. Wondering where I recognized her from, Coach yells, "WAIT ON ME!" to OEG. I guess he couldn't help himself; he was so pumped to begin.
After our first set of "shuffle-pass with a 10 pound ball back and forth to each other", I asked my partner her last name. It dawns on me: we met at a party sometime in November or so. It was an embroidery linen party where I ordered the "Welcome to the Shit Show" tea towel that I love so much! "Finally", I think, "someone cut from the same (embroidery linen) cloth as me!
Except she has no recollection of me. Zero. None. At all.
Now miserably lunging with weights, I continue to describe the cheese board, the wine, the house of the party we met. Still, she shakes her head. I ask her if she has all boys; she says yes. I remind her about how we talked about that.
I decide to give it a rest because this is getting embarrassing. I thought I was more memorable than this...
Great, so now it's awkward while I feel the burn.
The other rotation groups are all around us, and VFG, 2.0, is doing her mega, added-weight to her rotation workout as I lunge with 10 pounders. VFG, 2.0 sees me wince and says, "You got this, girl."
Gosh, that's so nice.
Not knowing what to say, I encourage her back, "You too, girl."
"Girl" is not in my customary lexicon, and my voice gave a wimpish response to her encouragement.
All in all, these people like to cheer each other on like I do. That may conclude the ways we are alike, and that's okay. I get to immerse myself into the Gym Rat Culture. And I don't even have to go out of the country to see other customs.
But can I wear pearls to my next workout?
I can do whatever I want, girl.