“Power Gym”, “Silver Gym”, “this gym” and “that gym” is something as ubiquitous today as Santa Claus during Christmas. People are somehow health conscious all over again. Or maybe they have realized the worth of the same after yielding years of their life to temptations and laziness.
So anyway, I too decided to be a part of this clique and got myself enrolled into one such Gymnasium recently. I had done imagining myself looking same way as the guy in the poster on the front wall of the gym even before I was done filling up the registration form.
And then the awkward conversation follows if it’s your first time. Gym instructor will take a pause before asking you,
“So, you know you have to…umm…you know for safety purpose.”
“YES. It’s NOT my first time. I know. Safety totally” I said confidently. You get a feeling of déjà vu in that situation. It’s just that it was not the gym instructor when last time someone asked you that.
Anyway, so I enter the gym and there I see a bunch of dudes lifting weights and steel bars, pulling and pressing machines in more positions that you would find in Kama-sutra. No seriously, I mean at one point of time, you wouldn’t be able to fathom what exactly they are trying to do with those machines. Some are half way inside the machines, some with their asses up and heads down using every part of their body to pull or press something.
So now, the fucked up part is that I’m paying bucks to turn myself into someone like them or more appropriately someone like crazy ass dudes in the posters hanging all over the gym. I think those posters are more of demoralising than motivating. The guys in the posters are almost mocking at you with their extra pumped up muscles and waxed-everything bodies. I do not know how they even get inside those vests they are wearing.
So you start exercising on your first day, looking at yourself in the mirror…I mean mirrors. There are actually more mirrors in the gym than in an actress’s make up room and the time guys spend looking at themselves in the mirrors is way more than a bride does before her wedding. No kidding, I have even seen some dudes, who touch themselves (C’mon’ not like that), flexing their biceps and chest and staring at themselves in the mirror from all possible angles. Some even look at you with a revengeful face as if you just eye-balled their girl. Some of the huge and fat ass guys will intentionally lift as much as ten times the weights you are lifting and try to look down upon you. Well, like Mahatma Gandhi said you shall just ignore such people. Probably because that’s the only resort you have. You really can’t beat them in lifting such heavy dumbbells. All you can hope for is to it fucking falling on their head when they are lifting their ass up in the air in a weird-position exercise. Besides I believe many of the people forget the very purpose they had joined the gym was not to compete each other in lifting heavier weights, but to get into a desired shape and maintain it.
I’m saying so because you then see some guys lifting everything they possibly could as if some crazy religious saint has hypnotised them in doing so the way they do to potential terrorists.
“My son, the day you will be able to lift 90 Kg of weight and look at your own ass in the mirror; you shall attain the ultimate nirvana and yes of course 100 virgins in the heaven.”
Funniest thing is not that people as in terrorists buy that shit about reaching heaven but they actually believe that 100 fairies are going to save themselves for these ugly ass losers to die and reach the gates of heaven one day for them to be rewarded.
So these self-hypnotised or influenced ones work extra hard in the gym, because they just cannot ever feel content with their bodies. And if you happen to observe them while lifting weights and pressing those machines, you can see how much pain is there in their asshole which is expressed right on their faces. It looks as if they are trying to pull out a giant monkey out of their ass. Those faces look not only constipated but they also make moaning sounds while doing last few repetitions of the sets. “Oh yes, oh yes few more and I’m there.”
(P.S. I wrote this article while doing biceps and staring at myself in the mirror in the gym.
“Man, I’m almost there. Some more weights to do and I’m totally gonna be like that guy in the poster…”)