People at the gym

The great thing about the gym is that people of all types go there, whether you’re old, young, fat, skinny, a fitness guru, or a fitness newbie. The gym at my college is pretty homogenous between the pretty girls who spend hours on hours skipping on the elliptical and the guys in tank tops who have grunting contests while doing free weights. On the other hand, the gym in my hometown is a mix of everyone. I’ll break down the types.

The Grandparents

They’re retired and have been pretty sedentary since back problems constricted them to full-time house cleaning. But the doc says that it’s important to stay in shape, so they sign up at a gym for their grandchildren’s sake. They tend to avoid the new machines, as the fancy buttons merely confuse them. They spend a good majority of their time walking on the treadmill or reading a book on the bike. A typical workout involves some light cardio and a few sit ups on the side. Sweaty from a hard workout, they have no shame about sitting in the sauna with only their undergarments on. This is Grandma’s way of saying “IDGAF if someone sees me in my bra and panties. I’ve seen it all anyways, and one day you will too!”

The Bro

He comes into the gym with a workout buddy or two. He scoffs at the women who flock towards the cardio room. “Running?” he scowls. “Why would I want to lose tone when I can build up my gigantic muscles?” His first stop is the free weights area. Maybe he hasn’t picked up a weight in a few weeks, but he sees that his workout buddy is grabbing the biggest dumbbell in the room, so he feels the need to man up and try that same weight too. Since he’s not quite fit enough for the challenge, he spends most of his weight workout grunting so loudly that the Grandparents nearby even turn their heads to figure out what the commotion is all about. He’s also wearing a tank top, so the girls nearby have a full-on view of his manly armpit hair as he does the bench press. He walks out of the gym leading with his shoulders so everyone can see just how swoll he’s getting.

The Bikini Babe

She’s what they call the “fat skinny girl” — someone who eats whatever she wants and never gains any weight. But she’s starting to feel bloated lately, so she goes to the gym just to say that she did. After all, it’s not the workout that matters; it’s the amount of time she went. She enters the gym and doesn’t give a second look to the weights or the treadmill. It’s elliptical only. She casually runs to a 13 minute mile, throwing in some sprints every once in a while. Before she can start a sweat, she turns her body so everyone behind her can see that — gasp — she worked out for a whole 75 minutes! Beat that bitches. She leaves with her hair as perfectly in tact as when she arrived.

The 50-Year-Old Gym Buff: Male

He goes to the gym every morning. He mixes up his routines so his body never gets too used to one workout. He always comes to the gym with a workout plan in mind. He has knows everyone’s name because he always comes here at the same time each morning. He scowls at the Bros and Bikini Babes who think they’re so cool when really they have nothing on this Gym Buff. When he sees a Bro trying to lift more weight than he can handle, he stops by and offers some technique tips to the poor guy. The Bro seems grateful for this, so Gym Buff starts to think that he’s good enough to be a personal trainer. But no, he really couldn’t do that. After all, once he’s done with his workout, he’ll be getting suited up for his white collar 9-to-5 job that pays much better than being a personal trainer.

The 50-Year-Old Gym Buff: Female

She’s not a personal trainer, but she sure could be mistaken for one if you saw her on the treadmill. She runs at the speed of light. She’s addicted to the adrenaline rush she gets when she’s working out. She knows to spread her workout between cardio and strength training. In fact, she’s so good at it that she’s freakishly toned. She’s got abs and arms of steel, and she’s not afraid to show it. In fact, she’s so proud of her body that she only wears a sports bra when she works out. The belly button piercing emphasizes her six pack. She sweats like crazy but has no shame because she knows she’s the queen of the gym. Everyone, she thinks, should aspire to be like her.

The New Year’s Resolution

She went to the doctor, who said that she’s 20 lbs overweight. She’s made it her New Year’s resolution to get fit, so joining a gym is the first step. She is intimidated by everyone there, especially the 50-Year-Old Gym Buff who looks like she’s on steroids. She’s been told the treadmill is best, so she runs intervals at her own pace, trying not to feel self-conscious by all of the fitness gurus nearby. After a few minutes, she resolves to spend the rest of her workout on the bike. Then maybe no one will notice that she’s sweating more than she ever has in her life. Of course, I mean all of this in jest. Who are some of the people that you find at your gym?

Image via We Heart It.

Nice girls finish last

As a high schooler, I always imagined going to college and getting paired up with an awesome roommate who would be my best friend. We would stay up late talking all through the night, share clothes, help each other on homework, and spend Friday nights getting ready to go out together. TV shows always made it seem like that random person you lived with freshman year would naturally become your best friend.

I learned my freshman year that TV had it totally wrong. I spent my first year in college living with the roommate from hell, a self-centered, appearance-obsessed girl from the Hamptons. She was an only child, which explained why she had no idea how to share a space with someone. She would blow dry her hair in the room while I was sleeping, leave the TV on during the night, bring her loud friends into the room at all hours of the day, and keep trash lying around on my side of the room.

One time she left a pair of dirty brown granny panties on my side of the room and claimed they were mine. AS IF. For how much money this girl spent on her designer clothing, her underwear was straight from Costco. The poop brown granny panties were not mine.

So thanks to my freshman year roommate, I missed out on all of the fun things that roommates do together. I never did get that chance to do a closet swap…

And then last night happened. My roommate this year, who is the roommate from heaven, decided that she wanted to go out for the first time in months. She and I hadn’t had a night out together since Halloween last year, so we wanted to celebrate big. I put on a playlist of dance music freshly downloaded to my iTunes as we did our makeup and hair. Our friends came over to hang out and join the celebration. The night was starting off on the right foot.

Right before we left, my roommate declared she didn’t have any shoes to wear, and I was like, “THIS IS MY CHANCE TO BE THE ROOMMATE I ALWAYS WANTED TO BE.” So because I’m a great person, I offered my roommate my favorite pair of black boots, and she was delighted to wear them. They looked great on her, and I couldn’t have been more flattered that someone actually wanted to wear my shoes! When people want to borrow your clothes, you feel like you’ve got a celebrity wardrobe, and it’s a huge ego boost. The fact that my roommate loved my shoes just made my night.

But I wasn’t feeling quite as thrilled when an hour later, my roommate threw up. All over my shoes. My favorite shoes. When this happened, she just so happened to be standing near my evil roommate from last year, and I just wanted to tell my current roommate, “Why couldn’t you have thrown up on her instead?”

My roommate spent the night throwing up in various places, including someone’s couch and another person’s wall. She almost threw up on a car and my boyfriend as well. I got her back to our room and in bed by midnight, which was really late considering how much damage she’d done to people’s apartments in the hour she’d been out.

When we woke up this morning, she was all cheery and bubbly. “I’m feeling great!” she chimed. “I’m not hungover at all!” Meanwhile I suffered from a crippling headache and a burning desire to spend the rest of my day in bed. She was the one who threw up on my shoes, and I still ended up with the headache. Life is not fair at all.

Almost 24 hours after the incident, I have yet to clean my shoes. I would throw them out, but dammit – they’re my favorite shoes, and I’m not parting with them. Am I an asshole if I make my roommate clean them for me?

I learned last night that taking care of your drunk friend has negative rewards. I wasted $5 on a party which I attended for 5 minutes, and I missed my opportunity to take revenge on my despicable freshman year roommate. I’m kidding on that last part, by the way. Sort of.