By NATALIA HAWK
You’re at the gym, all decked out in your sports bra, oversized t-shirt and fancy running shoes. You’ve already done 20 mins on the treadmill and 15 mins on the bike. Now, you’d like to do some weights.
But there’s a problem.
The weights section of the gym is currently populated by a large number of burly men, all of whom appear to be professional athletes who would be in major trouble given the Government’s latest steroids in sport crackdown.
They’re sweating over the giant dumbbells and saying manly gym-y things like “yeah, it’s Shoulder Day” and “I’m two sets down, man” and “I did half a dozen poached chicken breasts and a bunch of boiled broccoli for breakfast.”
You’d like to go over there but you’re too intimidated. The weights you use are tiny in comparison to theirs. And you’re not sure how to use the assisted-chin-up machine properly… so they’ll probably laugh at you.
Plus what if they start standing behind you and looking cranky while you fumble with that stupid pin thing? That’s just embarrassing. You don’t pay exorbitant gym fees to feel embarrassed. You pay them so that you can confidently rip your shirt off at parties while yelling “THIS IS A ZUMBA BODY.” (Or perhaps that’s just me.)
So you avoid the weights section altogether. You stick to the treadmill, which is boring but at least you can be sure that you are using it correctly.