Chief Writing Wolf

I visited my local gym last night to run on the treadmill and lift some weights and I’ll probably go again tonight.  I was a little tired and sore from sitting all week, slaving over a hot computer.  But, I hadn’t been to the gym all week long and knew that some leg work would eliminate that ubiquitous sore butt syndrome.  I know how odd that sounds, considering most people either go to the gym on a weeknight or during the day on weekends.  So, I wanted to take a quick survey.

If you go to the gym late on a weekend night (e.g. after 8 P.M. Friday – Sunday), you’re:

a. Committed to building your body and maintaining optimum health.

b. Extremely lonely and, with no romantic prospects, decide to take out your    sexual frustrations on innocent dumbbells.

c. A psychopathic survivalist preparing for a zombie apocalypse.

d. A blogger trying to come up with stupid shit to write about.

e. All of the above.

Well, I don’t believe in zombies – vampires and werewolves, yes, but not zombies.  I’m such an introvert, though, that visiting the gym during the off-hours has always been one of my greatest proclivities.  I’ve had memberships at various local gyms for more than 25 years, but this gym is the first one I’ve found that’s open 24 hours.  Thus, dropping by around 9:30 or 10:00 on a Saturday night has become my weekend ritual.  I’ve been going there nearly 8 years and can’t foresee joining another gym any time soon.  The building used to be a grocery store, so the facility is huge, with plenty of equipment and plenty of room.

As you might expect, I pretty much see the same people whenever I go.  I hardly talk to any of them, but if I saw them in a crowd of people running from a pack of zombies or survivalists, I’d at least say hi.  Late on weekend nights is actually the best time for me; again, that loner part of me (which is actually 99.9% of my personality) relishes it.  And, there’s one good reason: it’s simply not crowded.  I rarely have to share a piece of equipment or try to work in with someone.  There aren’t large groups of people laughing and cavorting like it’s happy hour.  There aren’t any couples trying to prove how cute they are.  In fact, no one around at that time of night on a weekend wants to show off.  We’re all there to pump some iron and be left alone.

Yes, call us lonely, if you want, but I see us for who we truly are: dedicated individuals fighting against the rising tide of obesity and laziness in this nation.  And, when that zombie apocalypse hits, we’ll be more than ready!