The Divine Rituals of the Gym

Guy or girl it goes a little something like this...

Walk in.
Scan for attractive members of the opposite sex (or the same sex if that's what gets you going - either way it still works).
Put your phone, keys, excess clothing, etc. in the cubby you have designated as "yours".
Scan.
Choose a machine.
Scan.
Type in your selected program, weight, resistance, length of physical exertion you're going to subject your body to.
Scan.
Press start.
Scan.
Press play on your iPod after selecting the music that gets your blood flowing and pushes you to last a few more minutes.
Scan.

Then it's all.
Woosh, woosh, woosh with the simultaneous thud, thud, thud, thud.
CLANK, Clank, clank, clank.
Mmmta, mmmta, mmmta. Pshh, Pshh, Pshh.
Huff, puff. Huff, puff.
Water break.
Check yourself in the mirror.
Scan.
Socialize.
Scan.

It's the sounds of the machines as your feet pound into the treadmill. It's the loud crashing sounds of someone dropping their entire body weight in iron weights to the ground that brings you back from your own thoughts. It's the sounds of the bass and inappropriate words that are perfect to work out to but would mortify you if someone actually heard you listening to in any other circumstance along with the fact that you know every word and the most inappropriate parts are, in fact, your favorite parts of the song - say a little prayer of thanks to God for having someone invent something called headphones. It's the sounds of your own breath as you exert yourself to the point of copious amounts of sweat, of flushed faces, and of the labored breath that shows you how much you're accomplishing.

Most of us partake or have partaken (either by choice or by force) at one point in our lives in what I like to call The Divine Rituals of the Gym. Some of us do it every day to tone and build muscle, to stay healthy, to improve ourselves, to attract the opposite sex; the list goes on. Others only partake on those occasions which call for us to shape up so that we can look somewhat presentable in minimal clothing and not feel totally insecure. For instance, occasions such as vacation, Spring Break, swimsuit season, weddings, Friday nights (haha just kidding....sorta), New Years Resolutions. Whatever our motivation, we all force ourselves to put down the pint of Haagen Dazs, turn off the TV, get up and go to the gym.

We all want to look good. We all want to be able to pass a mirror and think, "Damn, I look good!" We all want to feel confident and sexy. We all want to attract some attractive someone with cut biceps, washboard abs, and finely muscled legs (those of us who enjoy going to the gym, that is. Others enjoy the gooey, smooshiness of fat rolls and cellulite. To each their own, my friends, to each their own. Me? I'll be the own on the elliptical scanning for the next Achilles ;-) ).

Anyway, we all want these things and we go about getting them through what some may consider a perverse form of masochism as well as a shallow sense of social conformity to "look good" by partaking in The Divine Rituals of the Gym. I don't care what those nay-sayers say. I like being able to walk up a flight of stairs and not be winded or walk on the beach and get whistled at or be the girl that a guy scans for in the gym. Call me a masochist of sorts. Call me shallow and conforming. I don't care. I'll call myself healthy because I can have my cake and eat it too (literally) because I just burned off the calories I'm now going to enjoy putting back in my stomach.

So, to all the nay-sayers - enjoy your Haagen Dazs and potato chips and TV watching. I'll be at the gym enjoying every one of the Divine Rituals....Scan.