Winged Victory of SamothraceJanuary feels like it’s eternal. The sky is gray, it’s very cold, everyone seems to be in a foul mood because it’s just not the holidays anymore. Boo hoo. The gym is packed with rows of grim new faces grinding away on strange machines. There is a small crowd in the free weights area. I have never seen any of them before, all wearing tee shirts several sizes too large with the sleeves torn off. I wonder if they tore them off with their teeth. They carry huge jugs of water wherever they go. They talk to their friends and they walk like stuffed teddy bears.

There is a lot of parading in the free weights area. There is more parading than picking up of heavy things. It is January and so that is what you will see. Men walking purposefully toward something. Then back again. Then back again. They remind me of bored fish in a fish tank. Round and round they go. I guess they are there to march around rather than strain something.

Every once in a while you will hear TREMENDOUS groaning and grunting. A gasp and then a horrendous CLANG! Everyone pretends they didn’t hear anything.

Some people think that yoga class is the only place for posing. Wrong, very wrong.

In about another week, as predictable as the migratory patterns of some birds, the newcomers will disappear and you will never see them again. Culled by the lure of Doritos and the Super Bowl, I will be left by myself in the “machines area”.

Perhaps there will be another “gym rat” trapped in the weights room with me. Usually someone whom you suspect of living in the gym because he never leaves. He is not a homeless man, he is a gym rat.

This blog is brought to you by Possets Perfum.


Pin It on Pinterest

Share This