Sede Vacante

The light is on but no one is home.

Frustrations at Fatness First


Let me tell you a few things.   I didn’t join a gym / health club because I needed friends.  I didn’t join it to pick up other men or be picked up by them.  Come to think of it, I didn’t even join it to pick up women (although I wouldn’t mind too much getting picked up by them if only they weren’t the overly fat kind that tends to **live** in these places).

I joined a gym because I wanted to work out and get healthier.  Specific to me, that means a desire to burn calories, and to push, pull, lift, crunch, run, or swim to the point of utter exhaustion.  It means I want to get my heart rate past the point where I can have a decent conversation with anything other than an eggplant.

For all you idiots who live in gyms because you think it’s the cool place to be, let me be painfully clear:

1. I do NOT want to join your pansy geriatric AQUA AERO class. Do not ask me while I am changing.  Do not ask me while I’m warming up.  Most definitely do not ask me while I’m doing laps in the pool with my heart rate hovering at about 170.  The last thing I want is to waste a breath and lose my pace while pulling your micro-encephalic gay head under the water.  Please.  Pleaaaaaase.  Come to think of it, I don’t want to join ANY of your classes.  I got the brochure when I signed up.  Told them I wasn’t interested.  Stop asking me.

2. I do NOT have any intention of telling you about myself in between sets of moving heavy plates of metal around. Do not expect me to ask about you unless you are female and look like Adriana Lima.  And even if you do, at the very least, I’ll probably wait until YOUR workout is over, and most probably until both our workouts are over.  But since I am a fat fuck, realistically, I’ll just act cool and indifferent to hide my extreme bashfulness when stepping upon an altar of beauty.  In any case… STOP.  TRYING.  TO.  MAKE.  FRIENDS.  I know a lot of people with LOTS of friends.  Guess what… most of them are fat.

3. I do NOT want to hear anyone say “no pain, no gain.” Anything that so conveniently rhymes and points to some grand universal generalization like that, is almost certainly false.  First of all, just because all gain comes at the cost of some pain doesn’t mean that ALL pain comes with gain.  That’s like saying childbirth hurts like hell so to have children I need to crucify myself and try to pass a watermelon through my pipes.  It just doesn’t work that way.  Secondly, pain means something, and when a supposed trainer starts talking like that in front of newbies, it reinforces the stupidity that you should work through your pain, which usually just leads to injury.  Definitely, success means learning to manage and recognize pain and take steps to minimize what is causing it.  But a phrase as stupid as “no pain, no gain” is bound to kill someone. And sadly not these micro-encephalics who call themselves trainers.

4. I do NOT want to see your bits while in the locker room. Just because I have one, too, doesn’t mean I want to spend my time watching you give the boys some air.  And as for you European expat schmucks, you ain’t no mandingo just because you can pick up sticks with that thing.  For chrissakes, if you’re going to swing it around, at least have the decency of being cut.  It looks like a diseased aardvark with no eyes.  Oh the nightmares.  And as for you old guys, jeeeesus christ… your sacks are disgusting.  Please keep them in your shorts.  Pleaaaaaaaase…

I wanted to raise my heart rate, that’s definitely true.  But I really don’t want to kill anyone in the process.

GRRRRR…

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1 Comment»

  Wallace Weeks wrote @

Keep it up! Weight loss has been a battle for me but the trick is to keep pushing through.


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