Gym People Redux

I had absolutely no intention of revisiting the subject of gym people, but after the last two visits to the gym, I could no longer contain myself. I have witnessed all of these species within the last 2 trips to the gym, so in other words, I am only working with a small sample size, and I still manage to pull out the cream of the crop.

You're So Vain. You probably think this blog is about you.

There is a small group of guys at my gym. When I say, "small" I am not only referring to the overall group size, or to their individual statures, but to their characters as human beings. They come into the yoga studio where I go to stretch after working out, and they do this because it has gigantic mirrors. They wear wife beaters and they gel their hair up into rock solid ski slopes on top of their heads. Then they proceed to do a few sets of sit ups broken up by pulling their shirts up and admiring their abs in the mirror. Right out there in public. Have you no shame? At least do this in the privacy of your own bathroom like me, where you can have the freedom to do a full on pose-off in your underwear like you are competing for Mr. Universe. Err...uhh... I mean, like a guy I know... wait, that sounds even worse. Anyway, the worst part about these guys is not the Ab-a-palooza (not to be confused with the ABBA-palooza, which is actually quite fabulous), but it's the fact that they talk the entire time they are in there and they giggle like school girls. And what's worse is that they aren't speaking English, so I can't even tell what they are saying. And as we all know, when you're in a group of people who are not speaking your language, they are definitely making fun of YOU. Screw those guys.

The Throwback

We all love a little nostalgia. Whether it's the 70's Saturday on your local radio station, or the 80's movie marathon on VH1, we enjoy looking back at the stuff we used to think was cool and remembering when we used to think we were cool. We weren't cool. Ever. Why do you think we're cyclists? It's one of the only sports where scrawny nerds excel. There are some, however, that take nostalgia just a little too far. Like the guy at the gym this morning. Although I left him out of my previous post, he is actually a regular and you know him well. When he enters the gym, his long, flowing, jheri curled locks immediately trigger a giant fan which blows them back, as well as a smoke machine and Whitesnake's "Here I Go Again." He walks in slow motion by the counter and instead of scanning his membership card, he just gives the scanner a swift elbow like the Fonz hitting the jukebox... and it beeps! The girl at the counter sighs and faints. His leather jacket is aged to perfection. His stone washed jeans with elastic cuffs are radiant. His bright white high tops seem to glide across the floor as he heads for the weight room. Then he goes ahead and knocks out his entire workout without changing clothes. When he's done, he swings his leg over a Harley parked under the power rack and Tawny Kitaen hops on the back, wraps her arms around his waist, and they ride right out the front door while Meatloaf plays over the PA system.

B-Rad

If anyone has ever seen Malibu's Most Wanted, then you know who I'm talking about. If not, here's a clip:


In other words, he's Vanilla Ice.

This dude enters the weight room this morning followed by his sidekick. His sidekick is the Marcie to his Peppermint Patty. He always walks behind B-Rad (which is Brad's stage name), and he never speaks unless spoken to. B-Rad wears all black. Black sweats, black wife beater (which screams "classy"), black gloves, and even a black stocking hat...because it's a chilly 68 degrees up in here, yo! His arms and neck are covered in prison tats, which oddly enough look to be very professionally done. He stands still for a minute and scans the gym to impose his superiority over all the losers there who clearly are not as hard as he is. Then he does a set of shoulder presses, a set on the bench, and a set of assisted pullups. Marcie doesn't do a single set, he just spots. Then B-Rad wraps it up with a quick dip in the pool while Marcie gets dressed and pulls the Caddy around. B-Rad doesn't swim laps though, he does MMA kicks and punches underwater for the resistance it provides.

That wraps up my series on gym people. Regardless of how I made it sound, I actually do work out when I am at the gym and don't just sit around and observe. These people are just too hard to miss, and too good not to write about.