Why I Hate the Gym

In the spirit of the two rants that preceded this post, I have decided to let off some steam of my own. Turns out this whole blogging thing can be quite therapeutic. Anyways, in an effort to relieve some stress, and get myself into peak physical condition for the upcoming softball season, I have been trying to make it to the gym as often as I can. Certain people make this experience infuriating:

The Grunter – I don’t know about you, but I can’t remember the last time screaming like a rectally impaled walrus helped me put up extra weight. This is never necessary. If anything, I remain as silent as possible so the steroid monsters don’t catch me struggling with two plates on the bench press. So shut the fuck up. No one cares how hard you are pushing yourself to finish that last set of deltoid rows.

Sports-Bra Whale – Ever notice how the only chicks who show their stomachs off on the stair master are usually pushing 250lbs? Forget the sports-bra, you should be wearing a fucking sweatshirt. This way you can work up more of a sweat and save yourself the embarrassment. No one wants to see your lard rolls flopping around like a trash bag full of cake batter. Unless you are intentionally trying to humiliate yourself as a motivational device, cover that shit up.

Treadmill Flatulater – This is just disgusting. It smells foul enough in the poorly ventilated, hot and sweaty cardio-room as it is. Your sulfuric emissions aren't helping the cause. If you can’t control your bodily functions when you work out, stay the fuck home. Also, much like when some jerk lets one go in a crowded bar, everyone is implicated here. There is rarely an obvious culprit. The smokeshow trying to finish her 5th mile to my right probably thinks it was me. Thanks a lot, buddy.

Profuse Sweater – This one’s simple. If you emit so much sweat that it almost fills the cup holder on the treadmill, you should probably spray some sanitizer on it. That, or have your sweat glands cauterized. Because that is far from normal.

While these are only a few of the etiquette infractions I see during my daily workouts, it feels good to let out some pent up anger. Obviously, I want this blog to be more than simply a platform for our writers to vent, and I promise to bring more to the table going forward, but I couldn’t resist.