Gym Rats, Part II

I realized after the last post that I have a lot more to say about gym attire, etiquette and general gym gong show-ery.

First off I have to say that although I thought last week's flexing parade was a one-time deal, OH HOW I WAS MISTAKEN. I trudged across the street again yesterday, prepared for another delightful lift with the motley crew of characters in the gym. This time upon entering the gym my thoughts went from shock to horror to aaahahaha this is really happening to just ....... The equivalent of a mental flatline. There was just nothing left in my poor confused dome.

This was because this time, there was yet another short muscled dude flexing in front of the large wall of mirrors (I probably shouldn't be surprised anymore at this point). Except this guy was NAKED.

...with the exception of a tiny pair of purple boxer briefs covering his goods.
WHERE. AM. I?

It was all I could do not to burst out laughing and begin rolling on the floor. Also, though it's probably not worth mentioning after I recount that show, Arnold also made another shirtless flexing appearance later in the lift as well.

So that's hopefully the concluding chapter on clothes-less flexing in local Hungarian gyms but who knows. Next time I walk in there someone will probably be unhealthily tan, greased up and wearing a man-thong. Pray for me.

Speaking of gyms though, I have a few more things I don't understand, such as what's with the fact that EVERY gym has "that guy" who works out exclusively in jean cutoffs? And yes, for a change, I'm not exaggerating here. I have never lifted at a gym on a regular basis and not seen that guy. Doesn't matter what country/what kind of gym. Just once I just want to say to this guy, "Everyone else here is wearing regular work out gear. Why is khaki/denim your performance fabric of choice?"
Who knows, the rest of us could have it all wrong. Maybe these cats are onto something.

I will also, for the rest of my life, remain perplexed about the guy I saw wearing flip flops in mid-February at the university gym in Winnipeg. I first rationalized that maybe he just forgot his runners since he was otherwise dressed appropriately in workout shorts and a t-shirt.
But then I realized we were in the depths of Canadian winter and ain't nobody wearing flip flops to school when it's snowing. No, this was a deliberate choice.
Dude had to have had a moment that morning where he thought "No, these green Havaianas will definitely be a much better choice than the New Balances sitting in my gym bag. I'll take these."
Further, let's say I go back to throwing homie a bone and that he did actually just forget his runners, why wouldn't he have just worn the closed-toe footwear I'm sure he wore to school? I'd have paid money to see someone workout in Sorels. Just clomping around, trying not to step on people's toes or crush workout equipment like some boot-wearing Godzilla.


And I know all the Canadians out there know what I'm talking about because you had a pair from grade 1 through 6. Don't deny it. Along with the Canadian Tuxedo, it's part of the fashion heritage that binds us.

Finally, I should mention I once saw a woman asleep on a stationary bike at the same university gym. This is also not a lie. I've never seen anything like it before and doubt very highly I will ever see it again. You probably won't either so this is what it looks like:
A slim, middle-aged woman is sitting on a reclined stationary bike reading but not peddling. As her head begins to bob, I notice her legs finally begin peddling, albeit verrrrrrry slowly and umm, backwards. Then, as her head falls violently to her chest, she briefly wakes up, begins moving her legs equally slowly in the forward peddling direction.
Riveted, I sit on a bike nearby and watch this spectacle go on for about 10 minutes before the woman wakes up. She finishes up the last few pages of her Reader's Digest, all the while peddling too slowly for the "Use the arrows to select a workout or press quick start to begin" screen to disappear off the bike's screen. I guess at this point she decides she's had a gruelling enough cardio sesh for the day, gets off, and proceeds to spray the bike down with disinfectant.
It was all I could do not to get off my own bike and give her a hearty pat on the back. Both for a workout well-done and for having accomplished what I never thought was possible - napping and working out at the same time.