The Hamster Wheel

I love the new year!  I love the way everything feels as though it can just begin again and cleanse the plate, so to speak.  On the 31st of December, my husband and I finally got our booties back to the gym.  Believe me when I say it was desperately needed, as we have been avoided the gym for way too long...about a month or so.  Yeah, you know how that goes.  Needless to say, on the 31st I had no problems getting on the good ole' hamster wheel.  There wasn't a line; every machine was not in use--as a matter of fact, it was a bit nice.  I was able to get in a nice, good, strong workout--the kind where I'm sweating up a storm and down my entire bottle of water.  I love those workouts!

Every other day we interchange between cardio and weights.  On the 1st of January I was a bit worried.  After all, resolutions have been made.  We decided to hit the gym over by my parents' house.  Granted it was before noon, but once again no issues with the weights.  Every thing I needed was neatly on its little rack in the section of the gym that's all free weights.  It was nice.  No, it was more than nice.  It was awesome!  I didn't have to go running around the gym trying to find the match for the one that I needed; there was no looking high and low trying to see where the 17.5 pounders were.  Nope, none of that.  Everything, EVERYTHING was in its place.  Nice, huh?

And then there was yesterday.  January 2nd.  When all the "I'm going to lose weight this year" wannabes entered the gym.  The ENTIRE section of hamster wheels was taken.  THE ENTIRE SECTION.  I mean, really.  I've been a gym rat for SEVEN years, and every single damn year it's the exact same thing. January sucks for me and the gym.  Not due to motivation.  Not due to a resolution gone astray.  No.  January sucks for me and the gym because suddenly all the gym rat wannabes come crawling out of every crevice imaginable and plant their stake on my territory.  Not cool.

When a hamster wheel was finally opened, I was squished between the "he's going to die at any moment, but God bless him, he's still going" guy and the "my magazine is more important that this workout" chick.  The guy to my left was wheezing so hard that there was a moment when I almost asked him if he was going to be alright.  I was seriously concerned.  Of course, the gym rat in me wanted to smack him upside the head and tell him to get the hell out of there--his wheezing was a distraction and god forbid he keel over--I was SO NOT about to help him.  Not because I'm mean or heartless, and those that know me can attest to this--I just can't stand anyone who appears to be ill or injured in any fashion.  It frightens me.  And the chick--did she seriously think she would lose any weight at a whopping 2.0 miles per hour?  Please.  Ridiculous.  And taking up a valuable hamster wheel for what?

So today, as I rolled into the gym and saw the weight section completely crowded, I knew that my workout would suck.  I stayed, did five leg machines, and got the heck out of there.  I cannot WAIT for February--when all these wannabes get back to their couches and all the equipment, once again, becomes mine.