Gym Etiquette

This was supposed to be a post on my friend's website, TRYING TO BE FAHAD. Because he's trying to rid the world of fat people, he either a) never read it, b) didn't bother telling me he read it, or c) was eaten by a fat man in his never ending quest to eradicate fat men. That didn't deter me, because I have a blog. So here it is, in its glorious entirety.

I'm not like Fahad. I don't take into account every thing that goes into my body. (He treats his like a temple. Me? An amusement park.) I overindulge at lunch, take a bite of cake every now and then, and yes, Fahad, I do skip workouts. (I swear I feel like shit when I do. Please don't yell at me, MUF.)

In short, I'm a normal dude. (Cue cheesy Ford ad music.)

So, I was a bit shocked when the Ninja asked for my two cents on his blog. "What have I got to offer?" I asked myself.

Since I've been blessed with the gift of gab, I decided to do what anyone in my position would. I decided to wing it.

What I See When I Go To The Gym (Pet Peeves)

I've been going to the same gym for a while now. The equipment there is pretty standard stuff, its spacious, and, as someone who knows his workout, I don't bother with the subpar attitudes of some coaches. They act as if they own the place, but that's neither here nor there.

One of the things that irks me is when I go to the gym, iPhone set to a certain podcast and volume cranked WAY up on my beats, and I see someone I know. Look, I'm not saying I'm above talking at the gym. Get me within earshot of peeps talking football and I spend 45 minutes debating the merits of player X over player Y. HOWEVER, that is before I start my workout or after I finish. During workouts, I'm a man possessed. The only voice I wanna hear is Mr. Tony's.

This, apparently, either doesn't sit well with the people I know or they're not getting the memo of my plugging in my headphones every two seconds. "Please let me finish my workout," I think my action is saying. Apparently they hear, "Please continue your boring discourse on why I'm not doing this correctly and / or what steroids to inject to get to my optimal (read: pudgy and bloated) body shape."

My advice to the people reading this? When you see someone engrossed in his workout, please leave him be. He doesn't want your stories, advice, or even to be your workout partner because "my friend is out with his girlfriend o sa7ab 3alay."

And, for the love of God, please don't lambaste me with steroids advice.

If I want to look like the Stay Puft Marshmallow Guy, I'll let you know.

Until that time comes, fuck off.

No seriously. Fuck off.

When Bodie is not yelling at his friends at the gym on this site, he writes on The Left Tit, a blog with quite possibly the best name ever. (Avenge the Virgins is a close second.)