I Hate the Gym

I am not one of those people who goes to the gym with a smile on my face, ready to great my fellow exercisers. I don't like going to the gym. I'd rather be at home sleeping or reading or shoving bamboo shoots under my fingernails. I only exercise because a) I sit in front of a computer all day (and for while at night), b) I don't want to regain the 50-plus lbs. I lost a while ago, c) I hope it helps to control my blood pressure and d) I hate to admit it, but it does make me feel better.

I go to the gym at 5 a.m. four days a week, which means I wake up at 4:30. I have exactly an hour to divide between cardio, weights and stretching, so that I can get home shortly after 6:15 to take a shower and be at work by 7:30. If I don't go to the gym before work, the chances are higher that I won't go at all. At night, it's too easy to say, "I'm too tired to exercise today," especially when I have other things on my agenda at night, like spending a few minutes with my husband and son, cooking dinner, washing and folding clothes, packing my lunch for work the next day, and doing a little writing here and in other places.

So, since I'm barely awake at 5 a.m. and cranky because I am at the gym, I'm not particularly social when I'm there. I stuff my ear buds in my ears, turn my iPod up to drown out the annoying health club music and focus on my workout.

I don't go to the gym to socialize. I'm there to get in, check my hour of exercise off my to-do list and get out. If I saw me, I'd think, "This girl means business. I better not bother her," but for some reason my unfriendly demeanor doesn't dissuade those annoying people who love going to the gym and are happy about it even when they're there an hour before the sun comes up.

I'm not an unfriendly person, but that doesn't mean I want to chit-chat while I'm dripping in sweat and counting the minutes until I'm back in my car with the heated leather seat warming and soothing my stiff back. Still, there's always a couple of people who are convinced they need to be friends with every other person crazy enough to be at the gym that early on a regular basis.

They smile when they pass by and say, "Good morning. How are you?" or something along those lines. At least, I think that's what they're saying. I can't hear them, because of the aforementioned loud music filling my ears, a fact that seems to be lost on these people even after they ask me something three times without getting a response when I can't see them smiling in my direction and mouthing their questions as if I were deaf. They're determine to start a conversation and I'm determined to avoid one.

I don't hate these people. I admire their dedication to their health, because I know how hard it is to drag yourself out of bed before the crack of dawn to run in place on a treadmill next to other sweaty strangers with bizarre exercise and hygiene habits. Is it really that hard for some people to wash their gym clothes once in a while?

I don't like being rude to nice people, but my time at the gym is precious. I try to at least smile back, but I'm not very good at the fake I-don't-know-you-but-I'm-going-to smile-because-I-don't-want-you-to-think-I'm-rude-for-not-smiling-back smile. Then again, I've been going to this gym for almost a year and these people don't seem to have caught the hint. I suppose one of these days I'll actually remember their names. I guess another friend wouldn't hurt.