As I walk from the parking lot to your front door, I hear you calling out to me, beckoning me to cross the threshold into a new world filled with endless, health-laden possibilities.
Once inside, my senses are instantly awakened by your smell of sweat and mold (from your leaky roof). I scan my card and walk over to your stationary bike section. I sit down, adjust the seat, and begin pedaling. As I'm sitting there listening to my iPod and watching tv, a gentleman sits down next to me. The scent of Old Spice wafts over me, melding with your leaky roof smell to create a fragrance which really captures my attention. I notice something dripping. I look up, and behold the condensation from your vent. Thankfully, it doesn't land on anyone's head throughout my cardio session.
After I finish my initial cardio, I clean off the bike with alcohol and walk over to the "Trainer's Lair." This is where your prized possessions
My trainer and I then enter your purple room I've so rightly titled "The Dreaded Yoga Room." Thankfully, my trainer is kind enough to not make me do any yoga (although recently he started making me stretch, which is the poor man's yoga, in my opinion). After stretching, I am told to lie down on your sweat-stained yoga mat to do push-ups, planks, and crunches. As the aroma of moldy sweat approaches my nostrils, I remind myself that being FITastic is hard work. It's all about survival of the fittest. If I want to win at this, I have to suck it up and deal with it. As they say, "No Pain, No Gain." I look at the clock a few times to gauge how much time is left in the room before I can move on to better things. I also perform other exercises in your purple room, such as squats, lunges, band work, and the like. You seriously need to get rid of the mirrors. I'm just sayin'!
Once enough pain has been inflicted upon me, my trainer decides it's time to venture out to the rest of the gym. I would like to fill up my water bottle, but your water fountain is out of order. Not good, Gym-bo!
We walk past your large rubber tires and hopscotch section towards the weight machines. I quickly glance at the clock on your wall to see how much more time of torture I have left before my hourlong training session is finished. (Perhaps you should use larger clocks, and more of them, so I can see them from any area throughout the gym. I'm sure my trainer would appreciate that very much!) I have the pleasure of seeing the guy with the orange and black shirt, purple and black shorts, and blue crocs (I need to take a picture one of these days) as I begin my weight lifting. You so cleverly ensure he is in my view at some point during my workout session. Smart one! It makes me chuckle, which then allows the "keep your core tight" speech from my trainer to ensue.
After my workout session is finished, it's time for me to head back to the Trainer's Lair for one last
The last part of my cardio session generally goes unscathed, as you have decided to not foist any more unpleasantries upon me. I end with my hair being soaking wet from sweat and my face being red, and I am exhausted. I clean off the machine with alcohol one last time, and I then look at the clock as I exit your presence.
All in all, my experience at your residence is physically demanding, but I always feel satisfied when I leave. The release of endorphins for several hours following our encounter is pretty fantastic! You have a positive, lasting impact on me! I think I will keep you around in my life for many years to come.
Oh, Gym! You are too wonderful for me!
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