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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1528180-My-first-day-at-the-gym
by Yolli
Rated: E · Other · Experience · #1528180
Just a little something on the experience of a first day at the gym.
Authors note: Although I go to the gym on a regular basis, it is not really my favourite place to be. The other day I noticed a newcomer next to me on the treadmill and she looked a bit lost. This reminded me of my first day at the gym a few years ago.

My first day back…

Aaah! It is cool in here. What a relief from the smothering heat! The smell of chlorine and freshly brewed coffee fills my nostrils and although this is not really the place of my choosing, I somehow feel right at home here!

Music is pumping away and constricted faces of iron and rock is pumping iron while their hearts are pumping blood through their alien looking veins bulging on their arms and foreheads. The atmosphere is filled with determination and here no one slumps for a second The fear that the rock hard, sleek or even the lumpy body next to them might notice a weakness is just too much to bear.

There is finally an opening on the only working Nautilus tread climber on the floor. The remaining three have been out of order since King Kong. While I’m pretending to burn the lumpy bumps off my legs I notice that the TV’s are all tuned to sport or news channels and I wonder why everyone would always assume that if you are a mortal engaging in exercise, you would automatically like sport of news.

A skinny man in tight green poly shorts is panting away on a treadmill in front of me! His skinny legs appear in triplicate like those of a cartoon character. Some dude on the TV hits a red ball with a cricket bat and the crowd goes wild! A tattooed bully with a bald head utters a monster like sound as he lifts a giant lollipop with two sides off his chest.

Here everybody is on their best behavior. Fully make-upped ladies with poodle hair and long red nails pretend to wipe a droplet from their brows. The towel is like a desert crying, pleading for liquid of any kind as the patches of dry powder and foundation is too much – even for a towel.

So I push the big red stop button and wipe my plain looking face. As I move I have to grab on to the first piece of equipment I can find. My legs are like jelly, but the diet type, even more wobbly than the normal jelly. I slowly move over the crowded floor and find myself at the coffee shop. Here at the gym I do as they do, so I ordered myself a large slice of carrot cake!


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