working out is supposed to be a stress reliever. for most people, that is. i was involved in sports as a kid and as a teen, so i should be used to people in a physical setting. well, i am not. not as an adult anyway. there are so many instances in which i find myself becoming anxious and embarrassed. for starters, the locker room is a den for awkward interactions. you are supposed to strut in there and act like the fact that there is a semi-nude senior in your line of vision doesn't startle you. you have to choices, 1. walk by like you didn't even see her and that things like this happen everyday and all day in your life, and 2. look because you are shocked and wind up looking like a weirdo. of course, most people will choose option 1 because that is the nature of the locker room beast, while all along, you are talking quickly in your head as you rush to another area. then there is the issue of the lockers. the combination lock that i use only fits in select lockers so as i scour the scene for a functional locker, i am filled with anxiety that i won't find one. there are people that put their belongings in the lockers and do not use a lock. busts my darn chops. one, the rules say patrons must use a lock. secondly, if there are unlocked belongings in a locker that suits my lock, i get tempted to remove their things and put them elsewhere.
the gym floor is a sweltering safari. you see machines that look like animals. then there are the people. in one corner you have people stretching and moving in silly and provocative fashion. i was on the treadmill this one weekday evening when i was caught looking at a girl doing some audacious leg moves. it wasn't my fault, she was wearing parachute-ish shorts. i now avoid any eye contact with the 'stretching/movements section.' once i step on a treadmill, i feel like the row behind me is just watching my every move. i lean to the right to block their vision when i am inputting my information into the treadmill settings. i turned 30 a month ago and i still catch myself entering 29. i pout when i realize i am now 30 and then continue on to enter the correct age. snagging the right treadmill is another chore. you want to be sure you get a good one so that the tv screen you are looking at doesn't completely bore you and you want to avoid the one with the broken audio system. i always hold my breath when i get on and off the treadmill, in hopes that i don't fall. i am also self conscious when i get on those machines with twists and curves. i am pretty sure i am not getting on right and that someone is laughing at me as i do it.
in between breaks on the machines, my people watching skills are in full swing. perhaps it is the adrenaline or just the entire atmosphere invading my personal space, or both. i start to wonder how many of the burly men lifting dangerous weights have been in prison. criminal background checks are not required for membership. then you have the friends and couples that work out together and hog the machines. perhaps i should pair up with someone and score some more metal time. to be considered. as long as i don't end up with a stinky treadmill, i will take a buddy. i will eventually formulate a gym identity. until then, as long as i don't stare at people or fall down, i should be okay.
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