March 28, 2012 by Imprint Fitness
Whether you’re a personal trainer, bodybuilder, (somewhere in between), cardio hamster, or you just hang out in gyms for the smell of sweat and the resounding clang of iron plates, pause for a second and clear your mind… prepare to take it in! Next in the series of Gym Sins…
The Fully Loaded, Done For You Workout
or if you prefer, “I forgot to pick up my mom on the way to the gym”
This deadly sin is full spectrum from an entire metric ton of weight plates left on a machine to dumbbells strewn about like someone just launched a grenade into the rack and fled the area, to a scene that is reminiscent of a wannabe makeshift cross fit gym (I just threw up a little in my mouth) void of any flesh and blood.
So… If you happen to encounter one of these situations, there are three lame-ass possibilities, three I’ll talk about here anyway, that may explain the abomination at hand.
I’d like to say Possibility # 1 is the work of a complete idiot, but I’m pretty sure I’ve never actually witnessed the act in real time. I’m focused in the gym either with clients or my own workout so it’s possible I just missed out… problem is, that means it is intentional, albeit, lazy, inconsiderate, rude, barbaric, medieval, and that of a neanderthal but with less civility.
This occurs when someone takes the time to load up a machine with plates the collective weight of a Prius, move them to and fro, multiple times, to the point of failure, and feeling satisfied with their performance… just walks away. sounds reasonable, right!? (Don’t get me wrong, it’s just as irritating if it’s the collective weight of a set of keys for said Prius… maybe more so)
I completely understand the amount of exertion applied during an all out assault on iron and steel. I’ve often found myself wondering who I am or where I am just before I pass out!
HERE’S THE THING… I, almost always, find myself in the same general area I was prior to the loss of coherence. Being of reasonable intelligence, possibly the difference here, I can assume that I should now return the instrument of destruction to it’s previous unencumbered state…
Here is the real kicker, get ready for it, hard to believe I know… most often when this anomaly is encountered, the plate storage receiver for any plate loaded machine is mere inches from the working load receiver! In other words it would take less effort to unload the machine than it would to pull your head out of your ass to take a breath.
Possibility # 2
This particular occurrence is very often coupled with the “Vocal Exerciser” and, in fact, relies on the very same to provide maximum effect and recognition. This instance may be worse than possibility # 1 as it requires purposeful action. Here we have the gym peacock, proudly displaying their iron plumage for all to gaze at wondrously whilst the reverent murmur rises to a fever pitch culmination of unbridled awe…
This is actually your fault, my fault, all our faults! In one selfish moment, you know, that time you spent at the gym to complete your workout, trying to get that, “one more rep” or set a new PR. You failed to give the deserved respect and adoration that the peacock so desperately requires to exist, that’s right! You didn’t notice, so now the mountain of weight that would require a team of superheroes to remove, is now standing as a testimony to all the slamming, banging, and vocalizing you chose to ignore. Now we can all huddle together and ask one another, “who did all that weight” and “wow look at all that weight”, and invariably, “hey, who’s gonna strip all that weight off”.
Fear not, just listen for the next iteration of supremacy emanating from yet another machine that will be laden with the weight of the world even after the dust has settled, unless you do your part and acknowledge the gym peacock for the wondrous pea-brained fowl that they are.
Possibility # 3
This may be the one that sends you through the doorway into the parking lot… run run away, return to fight another day!
This is the gym within a gym. At first glance it may just appear to be a messy area in need of some upkeep, but on closer inspection, (and I beg you to be careful about just how close you inspect, it’s like stepping on a landmine in a room full of industrial sized mouse traps), however misguided this individual is, there is some semblance of order. Don’t get me wrong, there are times when you will have to “assemble” or conjoin workout equipment to serve a greater purpose, but when what you put together would make a seasoned engineer puke there may be a problem… if P.T. Barnum stops by to “get some ideas”, there may be a problem. If you had to scour the four corners of the gym, watch out for the circuit jockeys, to find “the right stuff” there is definitely a problem!
The most obvious issue beyond the center ring circus ridiculousness of this futile endeavor is that it almost never gets disassembled because…
A. I’m tired now
B. surely, someone else will want to use “it”
C. If I destroy it now lots of people will never see it (the sand castle conundrum)
D. how will anyone be in awe of my gym prowess if I don’t leave it here for all to view
Now, It’s up to the rest of us to work through this hazardous zone, weaving our way through the web of strength bands, piles of weight plates fastened together for purposes unknown, the Jenga tower of benches and dumbbells precariously assembled for what surely must have been unprecedented feats of strength, all of us having the appearance of a throng of fitness clothed nomads wandering through a pumping iron swap meet, in search of the perfect dumbbell.
Two down… Five to go Stay tuned, it’s gonna get better!