I've been going to the gym lately. No, this isn't a New Year's resolution kind of thing...I started going in December, thank you. And even though it's been great for keeping me fit, keeping me trim, I still really hate it.
The thing about the gym that's the hardest to shake is the feeling that everyone else is somehow, better at going to the gym than you are. Everyone seems to be in their element, the machines become an extension of their taut, rippling, youthful bodies. I haven't yet been able to reproduce it. Hell, I haven't even been able to properly fake it.
|Everyone else. Well, the guys, at least.|
|Myself. Based on true events.|
It really is a strange and novel thing, being simultaneously worried that I may be sweating too much or, if I'm not pouring sweat, that I'm somehow not working hard enough to justify my position at whichever workout/torture machine that's causing me pain. But I really think that I'll be okay.
Without getting too far into a self-esteem boosting screed about just being myself, or giving my all, I'm just going to suggest (to myself) that I keep going, if only for the hell of it. I think it's fun, and maybe, if I participate enough, I'll become one of those guys who seem at home in the gym.
Only then may the circle be complete, and I'll be able to laugh at those who will resemble my current uneasiness. Yeah. That'll be the day.