Believe it, folks: I went to the gym last Saturday. Yes, flabby belly, spaghetti-thin arms, bright white sneakers and all.
Though it may surprise you, I am not a walking talking hulk of a man. No, I’m a scrawny knee-pushups kind of guy who spends more time taking sips of water, talking to the maintenance folks, and figuring out how the machines work than I do actually working out. I don’t tone my pecs, blast my quads, or crush my delts. If my trip to the gym was a short film it would be called Stretching In Trackpants.
But anyway, last Saturday.
It was 8:45am and I was sipping some water, trying to figure out how the benchpress worked, when a steady stream of spandex-clad seniors suddenly brisked by me with stern brows and towels draped over their shoulders. Honestly, you might have thought there was a sale on oatmeal or a Wheel of Fortune marathon about the start at the back of the gym, because these grannies and granpies were on a mission. When I asked a couple maintenance guys what was going on, they told me Boot Camp was about to start.
My mind immediately flashed to visions of crawling through muddy trenches in baggy camo, swinging over frothy rapids on jungle vines, and standing on the roof of a rusty, beat-up car firing a machine gun into the sky with one hand. I can’t explain these images, but they compelled me to follow the Wrinkle March into the aerobics room.
And I know I don’t need to tell you all what happened next.
Large, adult-sized Fisher Price plastic and foam bits were strewn all over the floor, thumping dance music started bumping over the speakers, and a headband-clad Drill Sergeant screamed the sweat out of us. Adrenaline racing, I stepped-out, stepped-down, and moved barbells all around. I pushed up, pushed back, and prayed softly. After about fifteen minutes, most of the old folks were barely sweating, while I keeled over, my mouth sucking back dry, sweaty air while a sharp, knife-like pain quietly stabbed into my gut. And the whole time Sergeant Purple Leg Warmers was barking at me to keeping going, don’t stop, two more minutes, one more minute, and rotate!
It was intense.
By the end, I was a Jello-blob of hot muscles and shin splints. I felt like I’d fallen down a hundred flights of stairs and landed on a cactus patch. I was in pain and agony … but you know what?
It felt good.
I felt like I made it. I felt like I did something. There was a tingling buzz of satisfaction burning in my shredded calves, a lingering ache of pride in the dirtbike tracks riding up my stomach for three days, and a quiet happiness with the gym pain I’d inflicted upon myself.
When you reach up higher than you’ve reached before, give a little more than you gave before, or dig deep to your core to end up sprained and sore, well around here we say that’s a little something called
AWESOME!
Gym pain! Yes it’s pretty awesome but it’s still so hard to BEGIN. I’ve been on an exercise slump these past few weeks – sigh! must. work. out. tmr.
Nice to see the new post about Gym Pain :D
The most important thing gym pain says is I FINALLY WENT TO THE GYM AND I SURVIVED…what happens next is a mistery, but there’s no doubt that you went, you sweated and you conquered… Bravo! :) read you soon, Alexandra
FEEL THE BUUUUUURN! YEEEAAAH! LOVE THAT GYM PAIN! WHEEEEEWW!
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Yeah, I never go to the gym. :-\
Me neither. I’d rather exercise outside, in nature’s gym. Because admission is free, people.
Just got started back to the gym this month, so this is so timely for me. I’d forgotten what that pain from a healthy work-out felt like and I’m loving it again!
I bought a Groupin for a six week boot camp yesterday. Now your post. It must be fate.
I don’t know that initial “aw man I’m creaking and moving like I’m 125, and not 25” feeling first thing in the morning can be rough sometimes. Once you can get out of bed it’s better though!
Love the gym wish I went more
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I’ve never gone to the gym to work out. I’ve always wanted to, though. Mostly because of the treadmill. I’ve always wanted to try running backwards on a treadmill, but I’m not sure how that would work. Anyway, I’m a scrawny wee lad and I’ve never worked out, but I do love to ride my bike. I guess the most I can relate to gym pain is the feeling you get after you’ve biked up a really steep hill and are finally at the top. That feels good, but it also hurts a lot, too.
Hahaha!!! “Sergeant Purple Leg Warmers”!! I love the way you write!! You are cracking me up today. Did you go back for more boot camp?? Sandy
I love/prefer the burn of a mountain hike! Cleaner air, open sky, birds flying high~ you know what I mean~ Freedom…
*Hey, I think there’s a song in here Michael Buble!!!
Gym pain is truly one of a kind! I love it the most when I’m sitting at my desk a day or two later and go to reach for a pen and all the muscles I didn’t know I used to do that scream at me! Then I just get a lil happy inside and smile.
You know its working when you’re in pain. Last year when I started a gym, the first few days killed me. Mostly because I didn’t stretch. But now, I workout at home and its nice to feel the burn without those big bulky machines.
I do most of my workout at home without any special equipment, but that doesn’t change the fact that if you hit some areas you haven’t worked out in a while you still get the good ol’ gym pain.
But as they say, no pain no gain – so we keep going.