A new blog thread for you: STORIES FROM THE GYM!

Lately I've been on a (CRAZY) political tangent. And though I am very passionate about politics, the fact of the matter is I'm an athlete first and foremost. I'm all about The Greater Good, but I'm an athlete at the core. That said, I've decided to start a new thread called: "Stories From the Gym"... I figured you all would benefit from the drama, the hilarity, and the ridiculousness that encompass The Gym--my daily workplace.

I'm a strength coach. And I work in a gym. Most days I can't stand where I work--the lighting, the brainlessness of it all, the fixation on asthetics, and of course working for a corporation (UGH!). If I were to fairly describe myself at work--I'm the girl that is stronger, faster, and WAY more agile than the average. I train athletes and non athletes while talking about politics during their breaks. In a nutshell--that's me. I'd like to say that I get along with everyone, but that's just a pipedream.

Relavent Tangent: During university I often worked in restaurants to make some extra cash to survive (and naturally, to afford to party). After years of this type of work, I finally decided that I would NEVER work in a restaurant--EVER again. The pay was terrible, and at the risk of sounding elitist, I can do better than that--I'm a smart woman. Little did I know that working in a gym would be just as bad... if not worse (actually it's worse). Honestly, I have never worked in an environment that is more unprofessional in my life. Sometimes my workplace is a scene straight out of an MTV reality show--if you're not cool enough, fit enough, successful enough--pack your bags because you're going to get voted off!

To be fair, I have a couple of friends there (4 to be exact)--people that I truly respect and like... but for the most part, I feel as though I am in a reality television show without a confessional to turn to (but then again, that's where you come in!).

That said... here is my "Story From the Gym" of the day. I shall call it "BEASTERIOD"--out of hilarity

There is a group of us that hang out around this one table. We're actually confined to it because we just got a new general manager and her main goal (and this is a quote--obtained through hearsay of course) is "to make sure trainers are no longer sitting around".

In case you are unaware of this fact, trainers are slaves to their clients. If we cannot find a client to fill a time slot, we are either eating, working out, or sitting around-- and there are only so many times that you can eat or work out. Though our managers would love to have us prospecting (gaining more clients=making the corp more $) during this time, the fact of the matter is, they don't pay us to prospect... so we don't if we don't need to.

Back to our table; I digress... So today, our little group--there are 7 of us who regularly converse and are in my opinion the 'tightest knit' group at The Gym: Me, 'the Relative', 'the Footballer', 'Portugal', 'the Fighter', 'Greece' and sometimes 'the Newfie'. Today we (Relative, Portugal, and Footballer) were sitting around and talking about some of the newer members at our particular location. New members are like a new classroom for teachers--they change on a regular basis and you never know what you're going to get...

Today we were discussing a new member who is particularly built for a female. Not that it is a good or bad thing, but in her first week as a new member, she has garnered quite the reputation for herself. Last week Greece had a run-in with her when he mistakenly used one of her machines during her workout. According to his personal description of the story, she started yelling and cursing and speaking in another language when she realized he had been using her machine. For a group of people who spend about 4 hours a day sitting around, this was interesting news. We laughed about this and were a bit scared of having similar run-ins with her in the future.

ENTER ENID: seriously... it's just my luck....

Today I had a business meeting and I was dressed up when I got to The Gym. My hair was done, I was wearing jewelry (which never happens otherwise) and I was wearing make-up. I didn't have many clients, but the few time-slots that I did have happened to be when the yelling--cursing lady was working out. We shall call her Ms. H.

When I describe this woman to you, I want you to visualize the following: petite, about 5'3", very long, dark hair, and a very defined and built physique (think HYPERTROPHY). In my opinion, she may not have gained this strength by natural means. (And not to be a jerk, but she has a very low voice to prove my previous claim--see my earlier post about the steroids documentary)

During one of my training sessions--which I was successfully accomplishing without disturbing anyone else--Ms. Hypertrophy herself, in person, decides to come up to be and ask:

"ARE YOU USING DIS BALL" (be sure to say with a low voice--envision a voice that drinks whiskey in the morning DAILY and smokes ten cigarettes a day... then add a European accent).

I kindly answered: "Yes. We are still using this ball. But we'd be glad to share". (referring to the stability/swiss ball we were using)

She says: "I don like to share (cue eye-roll, then eye-lock and 3 second stare). I vill get my own" (don't forget the whiskey and the cigarette voice-rasp)

My poor client was like 'what the hell is going on'. It was honestly the most awkward/unecessary moment--everyone seemed to be locked into our small and insignificant discussion. Naturally, it wouldn't be a true moment from The Gym if there weren't about 2 or 3 trainers/co-workers in the vicinity to share in the experience. As soon as she walked away, another trainer said (outloud) "Watch out E... don't mess with her" and yet another one said: "don't worry, I've got your back"... it was surreal--sometimes I feel the need to look for the cameras. After our little 3 sentence conversation, she went back to the mirror where she stared at herself and danced (with herself) to the music. It was positively amazing.

In any case, it was just another day on the job. And while it's quite hilarious, I wonder why Ms. H (or as my co-workers lovingly refer to her "Beasteroid"--I'm shaking my head as I type the name) came up to me in the first place. Honestly, there were 3 other Stability Balls, in our immediate vicinity, that were not being used.

Something tells me this won't be our last run-in. We'll see what happens next. Maybe she'll challenge me to a tricep-pushup test... who knows? In any case, there is no telling what could happen at The Gym... tune in for updates.

Until next time...on "Stories From The Gym"...

Will Ms. H ask me on a date? Or will she curse me out for kicking her out of the "Trainer's Only Section"... we shall see!