Priorities

Everyone wants to have a "good body." The problem with that is that involves working out. The problem with that is that involves the gym. The problem with that is that involves people. The problem with that is that involves moving. The problem with that is that involves sweating.

How does one get in a hard workout without caring who is on the lookout. The gym is all about the atmosphere. You can't be the kid who goes to the gym with all the elderly people who can out bench and outrun you. First of all, do you really want to get embarrassed by a seventy year old woman on the adjacent treadmill? The other issue is with the locker room where older people misread the sign and think of it as a open shared changing stall. Who wants to have to attend PTSD therapy sessions because of experiencing old people changing around them? There's no option but to go to the gym where the entire high school tries to be athletic at.

There are many types of "gym rats." The jocks... those who need the gym to get into college for their sport and easily lift absurd amounts of weight or don't break a sweat until mile 10. The 'pretty' girls... those who do not even try to break a sweat and look cute. The 'gym rats'... the ones who the front desk knows their name by heart. Lastly the people who genuinely use the gym for the purpose of working out and being healthy. These are everyone's role models. They sweat, are strong, run far and fast, and look good while doing it. In my mind, I am part of this squad.

Everyone at the gym knows the number one rule is when someone is using a machine do not choose to use the one next to them. Only use a machine next to someone if there are no other options. Now if you are like me and a competitive person, it's always a race of who can lift more or do it more reps or run farther. 8:50 p.m. Strutting into my local "cool" gym and got on a treadmill. Losing track of the long three and a half minutes of my brisk jog, soon I turned to either side and realized that every machine was full and a girl happened to be stepping on the treadmill next to me. Giving a slight smile, my right hand slyly slipped onto the control keys and cranked the speed up to 8.5 mph. As each beep that signaled a .1mph increase in speed, her treadmill was going up .2mph. It was an undeclared race. I would win. The longest minute of my life and my legs went numb. Before I knew it my foot accidentally ran on the side and my knees were being grated. I survived to tell the story but rumor has it I did two summersaults others say my hair got stuck in the treadmill, but the trainer claims I gracefully tumbled off and ended up dazed and confused on the ground. My racing buddy, the girl, looked like a gazelle who wasn't breaking a sweat after 6 minutes of 8 mph running. She managed to turn around, watch my fall, ask if I was ok, get the trainer, and then proceed running while facing backwards. How does one fluidly run and socialize while looking pretty? If anyone knows please share the secret.