I hate the gym.  I hate the ever-happy receptionist who smiles and greets me as I swipe my card.  I'm not here to make friends, lady.  I hate walking through the door to the where the weights and equipment are because I know I'm in for a hour of pain.  I hate the stupid music they play.  I hate the soccer moms that are trying to "Firm and Tone."  I hate the middle-aged men trying to "Lose That Gut."  I hate the college kids who are doing some weird routine "Because Coach Told Me To."  I hate the big guys 'cause they're bigger than me.  I hate the small guys 'cause they're smaller than me.  I hate those guys who never work their legs, and walk around proud to look like an up-side down bowling pin.  I hate those people who spend half their workout talking on the cell phone.  I hate those people who spend half of their workout socailizing.  Shut up and lift, shut up and sweat, shut up and work something besides your jaw muscle.  The only people in the gym I don't hate are the really overweight people.  Much respect to them, at least they are trying.  I hate the weight stacks as they mock me in passing..."You might lift five or six of us, but you shall never lift us all."  I hate the cardio machines that endlessly take you nowhere.  I hate the dumbells, I hate the barbells, I hate the cables and pullys and treadmills and bikes  because I know no matter how I grunt and strain against them I will always give out before they will.  I hate my body because it fails me every single time, and no matter how much or how long I punish it, I know it will fail me again.  I hate the exercises and the routines and the sets and the reps and the sweat and the soreness and the total insanity of it all.  The gym is a toilet as far as I am concerned.
     Which is how I treat it.  All the stress and anxiety, all the worry and anger, all the crap that builds up from my daily life comes with me to the gym, and the gym is where I get rid of it all.  When I am in the gym I don't think about anything else but the next set or the next mile.  Stress is melted away, burned by the fire of straining muscles and oozed out of my pores like sweat.  I have gone to three different therapists in my life, and one hour in the gym sculpting my body has done more for me than all three of them combined.  When my hour is up and I walk back out the doors of the fitness center, all the stress and worry, anxiety and anger is flushed away.  I am tired and sore, 'tis true; but I am also happy, relaxed and refreshed.  And on my way out to the parking lot, I always try to remember to smile and wave at the receptionist.  She's a nice lady.

Great Post.  I feel your love for working out. 

I look at the gym as a Patient Mistress:

It's always there for you
It doesn't complain if you don't show up
When you show up, it welcomes you
It will give you as much pain and joy as you want
It will give you as much reward as you are willing to give it
If you want to quit for while, it won't hound you to come back
When you come back, it won't ask where you have been
It's undemanding unless you put demands on yourself

A gym is a Patient Mistress.  A perfect pastime.

He he VERY nice.
 
I am a sucker.  I love every punishing bit of it.  I clear out the crap before I go to the gym.  I try never to sully my workout with an ounce of outside crap.
 
There are workout variations that I loath.  They are torture. 
 
But there will always be bent rows, squats, curls, extensions, militarys, calf press, chest press, and deadlifts to calm me down.

Kudos all!  It really is a matter of perspective, I guess.

There are a lot of times when I felt like Ironaddict -pissed off, angry at every blade of grass, charged up with stress and ready to take it out on my freeweights.  And, like Danmirage, there are times when I don't want my daily B.S. to get in the way of my workout -I feel like if the only time I ever hit the iron is to "vent", then it becomes subconsciously tied to that act.  I don't want to always equate the intense, mind-blowing (and yes, sometimes humiliating) sensations of beating the crap out of myself in the gym with negative emotional energy, or use it strictly as a means of flushing that energy out.  At times like that, I feel more like Old Navy -Like I'm dropping by to pay a visit to the only thing in my life that loves me unconditionally, and doesn't play mind games

I guess it's all in how you relate to the struggle -IF you consider it a struggle.  I think too often in my own life, I spend too much time reflexively treating everything that involves hard work as a "Struggle".  Does a virtuoso hear the beautiful music in her head, and struggle to drag it from the unwilling violin?  Or is the music beautiful because it is so technically advanced, and the violin so unwilling to grace a less experienced player with its elusive charms?  True beauty in bodybuilding, like in art or music, flows -not from having conquored something (the nagging, empty canvas, the finger-cramping arpeggio, the forever immovable sum of all the iron in the gym), not from beating it into submission- but from dancing with it.

Everything good that comes from my training will be the culmination of thousands of tiny victories.  The pain zone will always be there for me.  And even though she is a forgiving mistress who won't get neurotic if I don't show up, she nevertheless isn't a slut.  She won't give it up whenever it suits me.  I still have to pluck up the courage to ask for that dance.

ORIGINAL: Old Navy

Great Post.  I feel your love for working out. 

I look at the gym as a Patient Mistress:

It's always there for you
It doesn't complain if you don't show up
When you show up, it welcomes you
It will give you as much pain and joy as you want
It will give you as much reward as you are willing to give it
If you want to quit for while, it won't hound you to come back
When you come back, it won't ask where you have been
It's undemanding unless you put demands on yourself

A gym is a Patient Mistress.  A perfect pastime.

Great analogy! 

Interesting post, ironaddict.  I was ready to write you off as one of those jerks who can make going to the gym part of the toilet-like experience until I read your last paragraph.  You saved yourself when you wave to the nice lady at the front desk.   I try to always be friendly . . . . manners . . . .

thank you so much iron addict for this post i though i was weird....maybe we r all ........makes me laugh a lot too
when i go to the gym ive got anything on my mind but pushing weight no socialize bulls**t
sometime i even feel like i am the only one who sweat pushing weight there
i had some problem in my personal life recently i guess training kept me away from drinking and drugs and do myself and others bads
help me keep feets on ground
im so focus when im in the gym and still focus when im not i train 24hrs a day
when i sleep im training , when i eat im training , when i drink im training , when i read im training , training for life train or die.
Guess thats what we call addiction.

for the first paragraph i was just dying laughing, thats some good ****, lol

What are we waiting for approval on?  Did I miss something?

Awesome subject!

* anything posted in this forum requires approval first, including replies*

It's a post your own article forum and hence, it's not entirely a free for all.

Thanks for the kind words, guys.  It means a lot to me, esp. coming from the more veteran members of the board.  danmirage, you don't know what you are missing.  In fact, I think you have inspired me to another article...

Great little write up there Ironaddict... enjoyed it
 
Scott - nice analogy!

danmirage, you don't know what you are missing.

Naaa..I am a barbarian...I am focused, passionate, and hungry for more...so I go into a blood rage anyway.  It's not angelic...and never pretty.  But I do look forward to the next article!
 

This is like bodybuilding poetry. I completely agree with everything on this thread. I love working out alone. Its the only time I really have to myself.... even when I have a spotter.... I pretend he's not there. I pretend that I won't need help on form or my last rep, and more often than not I don't need that spotter.... I say thanks as I gasp for breath. I wish I could spend my life there. I started going to the gym in Nov. 05 and I've never been happier. I have less to complain about. If there is something I dislike about my body, I know I can change it in the gym, it may come easy or it may take months or years, but I have the knowledge (thanks to this site) and the will to do it. I take that mentality (that the gym gave me) and apply it to other aspects of life. Thank God for Joe Weider and all of the other pioneer's of this sport. I really don't know what I'd rather do than spend an hour at the gym.
 
 
Life is good.

ORIGINAL: danmirage


Naaa..I am a barbarian...I am focused, passionate, and hungry for more...so I go into a blood rage anyway.  It's not angelic...and never pretty.  But I do look forward to the next article!
 

Sorry man, but with that cute little hippy dude avatar, I'm not buying the whole barbarian rage thing  

Sorry man, but with that cute little hippy dude avatar, I'm not buying the whole barbarian rage thing

Fools everyone.  They always think I am just some sweet little elf.
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