Ok ST I want to hear your funny stories about the characters you have at your local gym.
Tonight I was going through some speed work on the treadmill when the local billy bad ass gets on the machine next to me. So as I work in some 5k pace, I notice joker next to me, not to be out done, jack his speed up to about .5mph faster than my pace. The guy was obviously about to have a heart attack after about 1 min at this pace. He was gasping for air so bad that he looked up and missed the belt completely. It then launched him off the back of the machine and wrapped his leg around the side arm brace. They had to get medical attention for this guy as he could not stand up on his badly injured knee. Was it wrong for me to not stop? Its kind of like the bad driver that passes you and then ends up getting pulled over a few miles down the road. Don’t you just want to drive by and flip the guy off as you pass?
So this here incident made me want to hear from the ST’ers about your local gym character, and any of your more memorable gym moments.
I was a high jumper in college. We shared the Nautilus room with the football team. One day, I was waiting for some football dude to finish with the leg extension machine. When he was done, I lowered the weight from about 14 plates to 12 plates. He looked smug. I then did my set of 10-12 reps. One leg.
Funny story. Men try to out run me and it is kinda funny, but I also like to make sure that I am running faster and can run longer than others on the treadmill.
Hopefully the man will come back to the gym and is okay. I’m sure the man had plenty of help, but he probably thinks you are jerk for not helping. And if you were not running so fast, the little man would still be okay. So it is really all your fault.
Sometimes I think that I am that guy. My friend in I are doing recurring fitness tests to gauge our health in the off-season. One of the tests is an all out 2 mile treadmill run. There is no way to not look ridiculous in the gym when you are going all out for 2 miles on the treadmill. My gym has an indoor track right next to the treadmills, so I typically warm up on the track, jump on the treadmill for an all out 2 mile sprint, then jump off, cool down, and do another hour or so of running on the track.
The indoor track is a magnet for ego boosting bros. The track is only 1/10th of a mile, so just about anybody can get on the track and run a few laps faster than me, and jump off. Sometimes I admit that I do see them coming, ratchet it up, and keep them chasing until they blow. Then I ratchet it back down and continue on my way.
I’m pretty sure you’re one of the two roadies who huffed and puffed to catch me, make fun of my aero position, and then fail to actually pass me today.
Man, some days I wish I had a baseball bat in my pocket.
I’m pretty sure you’re one of the two roadies who huffed and puffed to catch me, make fun of my aero position, and then fail to actually pass me today.
Man, some days I wish I had a baseball bat in my pocket.
Years and years ago the company I worked for paid for us to go on
an Alaskan Cruise (oh, how I miss the dot-com days). So, I’m up
in the workout area on a treadmill, and the ship is pitching gently.
It means that you have a random variable incline, but you can adjust
to it if you’re paying attention. About three treadmills down a guy
wasn’t. Pitched one way. Pitched the other. He got ejected off the
back into the wall.
My yoga class is at a gym. We always finish up with quiet time spent focusing on the sound of rushing water, visualizing achieving a goal, etc… On Fridays, like clockwork about 10 seconds into quiet time somebody right next to the yoga room starts doing a set that basically includes a high pitched yell, then the sound of weight plates smashing together, yell, smash, yell, smash. Needless to say this screws up quiet time.
Then there are the usual collection of meat heads with huge upper bodies and twiggy pale legs.
I was even in the weight-room once when one meathead accused another meathead of using steroids, and he didn’t deny it. He just said, “I’ve got to keep up with you young guys somehow…”
Real men at the gym don’t go on treadmills because that’s only what gym chics do. Real men at the gym only lift free weights. Real men at the gym all have shaved heads and goatees and ride Harley’s. Real men at the gym are all 240 lbs. And real men at the gym definatelly do not ride bicycles or swim.
So while you were sitting around being lazy, someone was actually working hard…at a gym.
Who is really “the guy” here?
=)
My yoga class is at a gym. We always finish up with quiet time spent focusing on the sound of rushing water, visualizing achieving a goal, etc… On Fridays, like clockwork about 10 seconds into quiet time somebody right next to the yoga room starts doing a set that basically includes a high pitched yell, then the sound of weight plates smashing together, yell, smash, yell, smash. Needless to say this screws up quiet time.
a buddy and I were riding around town with our mt bikes when we caught up to a roadie all decked out in his matching jersey/bike. Seeing that we were on our mt bike (my gt idrive 3.0 is double suspension) the guy tried to shake us off. We were barely pushing it and was on his ass the whole time. I was going to pass him but it was too much fun watching him huff and puff in front me. At the next light he decided to cross the street and ride on the opposite lane towards oncoming traffic.
All we wanted to do was to say “Hi, nice bike.”
But since this is a gym thread:
At the gym I would go up to a flat bench where two meat head are pushing two plates (225lbs). I stop by and ask if I could work in with them. They said it was too heavy for me (I’m 148 lbs soaking wet) but I insisted since I there were no other bench press around. They were surprise when I was able to press up to 245 lbs and they walked off.
There are 2 meatheads at my gym with a bag full of various wooden blocks. 2x4’s, 4x4’s and the sort… While on the bench press they put these up their shirt and proceed to bench press. I can’t figure out why…
Also, there is the occasional group of high schoolers lifting 10-20 pounds and they think they’re ripped. I’ve seen them pose in front of the mirrors/each other and even once one of them had his friend take a picture.
when you bench press you should bring the bar to about a fist height. You are not suppose to bounce off your chest which uses momentum to help you lift. Maybe theyre using it to help them benchpress.
There are a few characters at my gym. One of my two favorites is the “Awesome Greek Guy” as my wife and I have named him. He’s probably mid to early 40’s a shade under 6’ tall and is muscular enough that you’d love to know him if you had to move a refrigerator or carry a sofa up a flight of stairs, even if he’s a bit paunchy around the middle. None of this is all that remarkable until you take in his awesome pompador of thick black hair carefully combed back on his head - anchored to his face with side burns that are “this close” to being mutton chops. the wardrobe wraps it all up, as he displays his incredibly hairy chest shoulders and back by wearing a Y-backed tank top, 2 sizes too big so that it hangs and gaps and looks much like suspenders holding up a toga. The bottom of this shirt, however, is loosely tucked into his “football coach” style square-cut grey cotton shorts that’re pulled up just above aforementioned paunch, yet hang to mid-knee, mere inches above the pulled up tube socks. Non-descript white low-topped court shoes round out the ensemble. he is a.w.e.s.o.m.e.
My other favorite is a local personal injury lawyer. He pays for frequent low-rent “let me stand up to the man for you” commercials and while he’s giving his spiel there’s a ticker at the bottom listing all the companies he’s successfully sued (wendy’s, etc). The guy is a laugh-riot of unintentional comedy, and on TV he looks a bit like Pooh’s friend Eyore, as he has this droopy, sad, washed out look … you can almost smell the musty-ness of his office and imagine the tar stains on his fingers from a 2 pack a day habit. Despite this, he’s frequently at the gym and favors harley davidson t shirts (somewhat surprisingly). The other day I walked into the locker room, picked out a locker and started the change-for-the-pool process … as i turn around to head for the showers he’s sitting on a bench behind me - bare ass on the wood … troubling. as luck would have it, later that night i’m watching tv with the wife and one of his commercials comes on … i pipe up with “oh, forgot to tell you, i saw that guy naked today!” my wife was troubled.
There are 2 meatheads at my gym with a bag full of various wooden blocks. 2x4’s, 4x4’s and the sort… While on the bench press they put these up their shirt and proceed to bench press. I can’t figure out why…
Also, there is the occasional group of high schoolers lifting 10-20 pounds and they think they’re ripped. I’ve seen them pose in front of the mirrors/each other and even once one of them had his friend take a picture.
It’s so that if they drop the bar it spreads the load across their torso and prevents the bar from crushing their chest.
I was on a bike ride with a few friends. We were doing a 100 mile charity thing and pro WOMENS team was there. No way we were going to let these women out pace us. Every 20 miles or so was a rest stop with cookies and what not (you know the deal). Mile 20, in front of the women eating a cookie a friend looks at me and said “oh, that fucker…I hate that fucker” as a guy rode past the rest stop. Off we went on the bikes, passed the guy. I tried to egg him on a bit as at the time I was road racing and quite fit. Dropped him and got to the next rest stop. Same story “there that ass goes again” - or what ever was said. Chase again, pass again and stop at mile 80…he passed every rest stop mind you. There he went again and now I am on my own chasing him as my friend could not hold the pace. Got him, passed him tried to rubber band him and dropped him. I got back to the start/end of the ride and was stuffing myself with pasta and salad with pretty bad cramps if I had my leg in the wrong position…I was done. This guy rides in and I see him at his car. He puts on running shoes and off he goes. Some time later he walks in and chats with me. He had just run six or eight or how ever many miles it was and was chatting with a huge smile on his face. I never met him before so what did I know other than my friend didn’t care for him.
Oddly, this guy is ST’s own GGeiger a many time IM guy, Kona guy and US Nat’l Team member. And, you would never meet a more humble, down to earth just plain nice guy on any course.