A while ago, I discovered that I really hated the gym…and I wrote about it. This was my last experience in a gym before I called and cancelled my membership. It’s not only important to know what you like and don’t like in this process, it’s also important to be able to laugh…and my memory of this experience still cracks me up. Whether it’s a fart in a yoga class or… something like this…there is always something that makes you grateful for your own lot in life. This made me grateful…and still does. I hope you enjoy this oldie but goodie:
Last night I braved my way into the gym…walking past all the beautiful, fit people…and a few chubby ones…and grabbed hold of an empty elliptical trainer before I could talk myself out of staying. I plunked down my keys, placed my water bottle in the holder, and climbed aboard the fat burn’in train.
As I started pedaling, I noticed…a smell. It was not a good smell. It wasn’t just sweat. It wasn’t just moldy gym clothes being worn by someone for the 7th time in a row. It was nasty.
My first thought was “Oh my God, is that ME???” I was horrified. I tried to sniff myself discreetly, but there’s just no way to do that in a gym full of your fat burning brethren. After a few more whiffs, I decided that the source of The Smell could not possibly be me. Everyone knows their own scent. Or they should. I have not EVER smelled this nasty. And I’ve got one of those noses that would know. I can smell a bunny fart from a mile away. Or is it bacon cooking from 5 miles away? That sounds more like me.
With skill known only to one of those underwear-model-looking CSI Investigators, I deduced that the source of The Smell had to be one of the two ladies on either side of me…because The Smell was constant. It had to be close.
I carefully glanced out of the corner of my eye at the ever so slightly chubby lady on my right. She’d done nine minutes on the elliptical so far. Not really enough time to work up such a nuclear quality fog around her, unless the aforementioned unwashed gym clothes were a factor. I couldn’t tell.
I glanced to my left and what do I see? The stereotypical blonde, totally fit, beautifully shaped, perfectly coiffed gym princess. Head held high, she pranced on the elliptical machine like it was a delightfully fluffy cloud. Every bead of sweat, which would make me look like a drowned rat, made her look sexy. She looked like an actress who had just been misted with a water bottle so that she could glow for her big scene. Cute little outfit, perfect posture…it was impossible to pick her apart. Certainly, The Smell wasn’t coming from her. I kept clunking along on the elliptical trainer like a moose stuck in quicksand. The Smell taunted me with every pump of my legs. I checked myself a half dozen more times, just to make sure I wasn’t crazy. Nope. It wasn’t coming from me – but whoever it was coming from needed a lesson in how to wash their naughty parts. Holy crap!
Of course, one of the musclebound hunks pumping iron in front of the mirrors had to stop and have a chat with the Princess of Fitness next to me. Of course he did. Hot blonde girl at the gym = constant parade of muscle bound admirers. I understand. I am certain that I saw him notice The Smell. As he was pretending to listen intently to the Princess of Fitness, I saw him looking for it. We made eye contact, in fact. And you know at that moment, he was thinking “Holy crap, Fat Lady…take a shower!” You KNOW he was thinking The Smell came from me. He was! LOL.
He looked at me with that look that so many people have. “Eeew! Lose some pounds, chick!” I just rolled my eyes at him and turned back to “Bridezillas” on the tv. But The Smell remained and I kept wondering…where the hell is it coming from and why did I have to find a place right next to it??
I focused my energy and trudged on. Trudge trudge trudge. Burn burn burn. Just as I began to feel my nose hairs melting from the incredible funk around me, it LIFTED. It was gone! I could smell the NORMAL gym smells again: the rubber padding on the floors, the occassional sweaty passerby, and of course that fabulous chlorine in the pool. I looked back over at the ever so slightly chubby girl and she was still there, pumping away like a crazed little motivated monkey. Nope, not her! I glanced to my left and…oh my God!!! The Princess of Fitness was gone! She was GONE!!! And with her, The Smell!!!
It was at that point that I realized I’d witnessed a true miracle: even perfectly shaped, beautiful blonde girls who look adorable 24/7 have problems…and apparently this one’s problem is 100% nasty crack syndrome! My GOD! This petite, adorable little woman smelled like she had a serious case of swamp crotch. GRRRRROSS!!!!
So as I kept on with my relatively unoffensive sweating, I couldn’t keep the smile off my face. I may have four asses right now. I may have a lot of work to do. But, damn it, I do NOT smell like little Miss Rosie Rotcrotch!!!
With this much weight to lose, I have to be thankful for every little thing. And, trust me, for this I am VERY thankful.