The Blogger's Best Friend

OK, so I didn't manage to post two or three times this week, although today we did have a significant breakthrough. I figured out how to blog from work. And while this particular loophole may be closed sooner rather than later by our IT department, for now it's all systems go. While I've been settling into a routine at the gym (two trips this week, with plans for a third!) and been disciplined about going when I don't feel like it, and eating better, even I'm getting a bit sick of hearing about what I've been doing for exercise, and what I've been eating. So today, my friends, we're going to use the oldest trick in the book, the blogger's best friend, the age-old crutch of people with nothing to say, and pressure to be funny: the top ten list. Having written this already, I can tell you that it’s a doozy. Hey, it's Friday, and I'm feeling lazy. Times are tough. So with no further ado, here it is, the top ten most annoying people at the gym, with commentary.

10. The Mirror Flexer - I'm sure you all know this guy, even if you don't spend any time at the gym. This is usually some muscle-bound douchebag whose monogamy in life extends to loving one person, himself. Don't get me wrong, there are a limited number of ladies who fall into this category, but membership in this club is almost exclusively men, hollow excuses for men who exist only to self-validate. This usually comes in the form of lots of hair gelled, wifebeater-clad longing gazes into the mirror while flexing. More annoying than the congratulatory, onanistic, extremely public muscle-porn is the fact that these guys are taking up space on the machines that those of us with lives outside of ourselves are trying to use in a timely manner. Please get out of the way, sir, and desist with the questions about whether or not your delts are as totally effin’ ripped as they could be. I care not.

9. The Makeup Wearer – It occurs to me that the female relative of the Mirror Flexer is number nine on the list, the Makeup Wearer. While the mirror flexing isn’t in evidence for these ladies, they are bound by the same genetic desire to be admired for how good they look. You can always spot them by whether or not the makeup is still on, and the size of the weights they are lifting. You see, the primary goal isn’t to break a sweat, it’s for you to see that they are in such good shape that they don’t need to break a sweat, hence the barbell curls with weights that start with a decimal point and look like a wee tiny roll of Smarties. I know you’re not really just toning your arms, because you haven’t done one thousand curls yet. I’d be willing to bet a portion of my life savings that these creatures show up in the evenings after having spent two or three sweaty hours on the elliptical before either you or I have arisen for the day.

8. Ironic Mustache Guy – This is not a widespread problem that I am aware of, as the only gym in which I’ve ever encountered this specimen is my current, snobby one in the downtown Chicago Loop area. There’s this one jackass who doesn’t cause me any problems with access to equipment, he just annoys the living shit out of me with his pencil-thin, handlebar disaster. I will admit that this is, at the least, slightly hypocritical of me, as no one favors facial hair more than I do. And while I can’t bring myself to pull off the mustachio full-time, I have considered it on more than one occasion, probably not without some sense of irony. It’s just that every time he walks by, he makes sure you know he’s got a mustache. Ken Marbury would be ashamed of you, sirrah. Wear that ‘stache with some dignity, not as a showpiece.

7. The Preggo – I know what you’re thinking. “Pregnant women have the right to work out too! How can you be so clearly sexist?!” Don’t get me wrong, the problem here isn’t that someone has exercised their reproductive rights, and is now exercising to stay healthy. That’s great. My biggest problem here is that the future mothers tend to favor the elliptical cardio machines, same as me. And during the evening, there are usually only a few available, right next to each other. And, well, I’m not quite sure how to put this, but…pregnant ladies on a relatively bouncy machine tend towards the flatulence. A lot. I realize that the baby is putting a lot of pressure on the digestive tract as a whole, and this is no one’s fault, but I seem to be the only one who realizes this, because I’ve been getting a lot of dirty looks when other people walk by, and the Preggos affect this innocent look that leads no one to suspect them. The next logical suspect? That’s right, the guy on the machine right next to her. It’s not me!

6. The Ogler – What can I say ladies? I’m sorry. It’s not annoying to me obviously, but men are hardwired to check out the ladies when they walk by, even if they’re not wearing yoga booty shorts and a tight sorority t-shirt. I guess I do feel a bit guilty, because I’m doing my best not to be a total perv, but 45 minutes on the machine gets a bit boring. And also, not gonna lie, all you fine-looking ladies out there are great motivation to get to the gym. Sorry, I’m disgusting, I know. I’ll try to pretend to watch MSNBC next time you walk by.

5. The Guy in Charge of TV Channels – This brings me to our first employee award. I don’t know who is responsible for the content distribution amongst the twelve tvs in the cardio area, but do you think it’s possible we can put more than one tv on ESPN? I realize the gym is in the heart of one of the financial centers of the world, but you will never convince me that everyone needs to be watching Lou Dobbs, Chris Matthews, and a thousand other crappy “news” shows that are on after the markets close. Doesn’t anybody else out there want to watch some baseball, or some football, or hell some situational comedy? I’d even settle for E! but apparently that’s impossible. You practically have to sell a kidney to get some baseball shown in the joint. Bugs the crap out of me, Mr Crotchety McDifficult.

4. The Judgmental Trainer – Continuing our theme of employees who bug me, The Judgmental Trainer ladies and gentlemen! This is the trainer who always seems to be around whenever you are lifting, mostly silent and shaking his/her head, but occasionally going so far as to suggest that you are doing more harm than good with your workout routine/sequence. I realize your sole purpose in life is to sell your services to someone like me who is pretty clearly in need of some exercise guidance, but your prices are astronomical. Yes, you are the Michelangelo of gluts, lats, quads and calves, and I, merely an apprentice. But there’s no way in hell I’m going to pay you $75 an hour to stand there and tell me how to use the machines for which I’m perfectly capable of reading the instructions. At least not until this apprentice gets the majority of the marble chipped away. Until then, get bent.

3. The Visitors – Part of the necessary evil at the gym is the business side of it. This entails certain annoying things to happen, like people who are considering joining the gym. They walk through, inspecting the machines and those using them like exhibits at the zoo, pretending to know the difference between yoga styles and personal training accreditation levels, all the while just trying to decide if it’s close enough to work and the train to justify the expense. You can see their little furrowed brows scrunch up as the membership representative tells them about all the amenities, while forgetting to mention that they are going to cram as many people into the locker room as they possibly can without inciting open revolt amongst the users of said locker rooms.

2. Remember This T-Shirt – One of the services the gym provides for the apparently uberwealthy is a laundry service for people who can’t be bothered to lug thirty ounces of gym clothes to and from work on a daily basis. They give you your own locker, and laundry bag, and every night someone comes and takes your laundry bag and washes it, providing you with clean smelling clothes and relieving you of a terrible, onerous burden. Bully for you. You’re apparently swimming in money you have no idea what to do with. Your mother must be so proud. What wouldn’t make your mother proud is the fact that you are so lazy that you can’t be bothered to change these clothes out…ever. There’s one guy at the gym who’s been wearing the same Youkilis Red Sox t-shirt since he joined. ONE YEAR AGO! No one loves the Red Sox that much. Even Kevin Youkilis changes into something else when he leaves work. Why can’t you?

1. Locker Room Nudist – This brings us to our final candidate of the top ten list. The Locker Room Nudist. While this subject seems like a banal recycled joke from Jay Mohr’s show about the Next Great Comedian, its truth rings out from here to the horizon. Locker Room Nudity is not cool. Oh, I don’t mean that you should be wearing Tobias Funkё-style cutoff jorts everywhere, but you certainly don’t have to have entire conversations with your fellow investment wankers while displaying the twig and berries. I don’t care how comfortable you are with other men seeing your genitalia, none of the rest of us are, whether we’ll admit it or not. Guys get shy about standing next to each other at the urinals, but somehow in the locker room, it’s ok to stand there with one leg on a bench, balls flapping in the wind, while smooth jazz plays on the overhead speakers. That’s not comfort in your own skin, it’s the start of a gay porn film. Put those things away. Thank you.

Twice?!? In a row?!?

Today, my friends, I am here to write to you about something that hasn't happened in quite some time. That's right, I'm posting on consecutive days. And not only that, but I'm writing to you claiming victory of another sort. I have worked out two days in a row. Cue the trumpets and dancing girls!!! Tonight, I was stuck at work until about 6:30, and had already eaten dinner around 4:45, anticipating the later exit from work and eventual workout. As I was preparing to leave, I got a phone call from an old friend that I recently reconnected with. She had tickets to some critically acclaimed movie playing at the Metro, and asked if I would like to go. I considered it pretty seriously, as I was kinda tired from a relatively long day at work, and going to the gym sounded like a pretty lame option that late in the day. However, I persevered, declined the hangout, and went to the gym anyway. I proceeded to lift weights and hit the elliptical machine for 25 minutes afterwards. Needless to say, this is an unusual series of events for me lately. Usually the urge to skip the gym and do something a bit more fun, and a bit less tiring, wins nine times out of ten. Please allow me to toot my own horn for just a minute longer until I tell you the other factor in this story.

58...
59...
60.

OK, so some of the truth was left out above, which was that I would have had to go home and change into a new pair of pants before hitting the movie. I had a bit of a wardrobe malfunction today, one totally unnoticed by me until a mother of four pointed it out as I turned to leave her career station. That's right, unbeknownst to me, I had ripped a six inch hole in my brand new pants, right on the left butt cheek. I'd been walking around for God knows how long, but probably two or three hours, flashing my boxers at the whole world. I guess it's a good thing the IOC wasn't in town, or it would have been goodbye Olympics, hello worldwide embarrassment. Anyway, I spent the afternoon at work in my exercise clothes, which is a good look I must say. At least I got out of answering the doorbell when it rang both times. So that's the whole story right there, bailed on a movie to go to the gym because I was already wearing the outfit. Of course, I'm still gonna put this on the resume because of the complete workout, as well as foregoing the option of just going straight home, which did cross my mind. Hopefully this means that I'm in the right state of mind to get this thing accomplished once and for all. Gonna try and post tomorrow, although I may or may not be having dinner with the Barretts, who are back in town. Either way, I'll be hollering at y'all real soon.

Cheers,
Blake

p.s. Almost forgot to mention this, but somehow I ended up losing three pounds while I was in Canada, which was nice and motivating. The weekly weigh in stands at +96 lbs. More to come later.

I'm still here

Howdy to the four of you who are trying to regularly read this particular chronicle. That's "trying to regularly read this..." because I've been a bit incommunicado lately. Took two trips to Canada in the past two weeks, which were a much needed break from work, even though opportunities to hit the gym were few and far between. Rest assured that items like the following were enough to keep the weight loss at the forefront of my mind. Behold.

And another...













That, my friends, is a spectacular fuel tank for a sex machine. Of course, that's at least a dollar I owe to the creators of a really stupid t-shirt, who were trying to find a lame ass euphemism for a beer gut. And also of course, I'm holding a beer in the last picture, sort of a theme for the Labour Day weekend. (Yeah, that's right, I threw the extra "u" in there because we were in Canada. Deal with it.) Offsetting the debauchery of Dollar Bill's bachelor party was the following week of family-related activities/enforced detox. Spent the week eating healthy (assuming bacon for breakfast counts as healthy), sleeping a lot, and hydrating with actual water. It was a revelation. OK, maybe that's an exaggeration, but it did feel pretty damn good. I got back to Chicago yesterday evening, slept like a rock, and got up ready to work and work out. Which sequence of events actually did ensue. Worked out and came home to a dinner of grilled chicken, spinach, pecans, apple and blue cheese. And two diet sodas, damn caffeine addiction. Sooooooooooo yeah, exciting stuff here at the old Casa de Townsley. Aren't you guys glad I'm posting again? That's what I thought. Anyway, school starts back up in two weeks, so we're going to try and keep the momentum coming out of vacation going. Look for scintillating updates on weight training circuits, cardio routines, and the trials and tribulations of navigating the Gap/Old Navy/Banana Republic online ordering system. Stay tuned, y'all.