Going to the gym for the first time is harsh, especially if you're not already super fit. If you feel bad about any part of yourself, it's just hell on earth. So many emotions go through your head, but very few of them are positive. Many are comical, many are dramatic, and I bet all of them are familiar. Come on. Don't leave me sweating alone on the Elliptical, okay?
Well, come on. Might as well be truthful from the start.
They're not even looking at you, nine times out of ten, and the people you interact with are super friendly, but you know. You know they are all secretly judging you.
Universal rule: hate them before they can hate you. This is especially true for first time gym-goers who are all up in their feelings and lacking self-confidence.
You hated math in school but now you're practically majoring in it. You come to the gym knowing exactly how much weight you have to lose, how many calories each exercise burns in an hour, and how doomed you are already.
This is a defense mechanism, but really, all the machines at the gym look stupid.
How are you supposed to get through this workout if you can't have a Butterfinger the very second you finish?
With every machine. Every single one. And you can't ask because then you'll out yourself at a newbie.
This thought runs through your head every time you step onto a new machine. It haunts you while you're on the bike, the Elliptical, and the treadmill, when you're lifting, when you're swimming, and even when you're trying yoga?
I know. But if you've never been to the gym before, you simply can't be expected to know gym etiquette.
Then you sit in a puddle of someone else's sweat and you realize … oh.
I never knew how weak I was until I tried to work out seriously for the first time. Major bummer.
This only applies to people who have the misfortune of visiting a gym with an entire wall made of mirrors. So … it applies to everyone. I cannot stand seeing myself puffing away on the treadmill. Cannot stand it.
She's on a stationary bike and she has no idea you exist. But who's counting?
Those got-damn mirrors.
You start sweating from places you've never sweated from before. How is that possible?
You haven't. You haven't gone two miles yet. You've gone three feet.
But almost as soon as you walk out, those endorphins hit you and you start to realize … maybe this isn't so bad after all.
I mean, it's still pretty bad, don't get me wrong, but it's not terrible. Mostly. Feel me?
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