All sorts at the gym

Take any group of people and chances are you’ll get a good cross section of personalities. This is certainly the case with all sorts at the gym.  As I’ve put my membership on hold for the next three (summer) months, I thought I would reflect on a couple of different types.


Firstly there is Slobusfatigus, who I have blogged about before, albeit a long time ago.  Anyway, Slobus stepped onto the treadmill adjacent to mine. I was already into a good rhythm and cruising at a 8:30/mile and dressed in my usual gym gear – running shorts, technical short sleeved tee-shirt, short ankle socks and my running shoes.

Slobus, on the other hand, was in heavy cotton clothes which included baggy jogging bottoms, a hoodie and at least one layer underneath.  He looked pretty scruffy and definitely very hairy.  After faffing around with his fob and getting the treadmill started, he started jogging.  Soon he was breathing rather heavily as he increased the speed.  Then he abruptly stopped, muttering something about accidentally pulling the emergency cord.  Yeah, sure.  Out of the corner of my eye I could tell he was panting, looking flushed and hot.  He had another go and increased the speed really quickly to end up quickly stopping again.  This time it was because his trainers needed adjusting in some way.  Yeah, sure they did.

He started a third time, walking instead.  He took off his hoodie, almost lost balance, and then started running, telling me he was now warmed up and ready to “go for it”.  He increased the speed, again.  Actually I noticed he matched my speed but was thumping along, you could see his entire treadmill vibrating and moving around.  He carried on for a couple of minutes, at which point he was gasping for air and stopped.  I wondered if he was alright, perhaps he was having a heart attack?  No, he didn’t seem to be as he went over to the free weight area for a bit of posing, after all he’d worked up quite a sweat.

The Texter

Next there is the Texter. The Texter is seriously annoying and seems to be on every machine I went to use.  She wasn’t using the machine, she was simply sitting down and tapping her phone.  Like Slobus, she has a fair amount of weight to shift and not really in tune with the etiquette in the gym.  Sure there is a notice up about no food, no muddy shoes and so on but nothing about sitting on a machine while fiddling with a phone.

On one occasion I asked Texter, in the most polite way and using my very best Home Counties accent, if I could use the machine.

“Would you mind if I could use the leg press now?”

“Ugh me?  Won’t be long mate”

I waited about two minutes.  Was this a waiting game, seeing who would last the longest?  I fold my arms and stand there.  As soon as I think Texter is going to be looking in my direction, I make sure I roll my eyes.

Eventually Texter finishes and moves away.

“Oh sorry, didn’t realise you were waiting”

I could have exploded at that point but decided completing my workout would do the trick, providing Texter didn’t get in the way again.  She didn’t.  Clearly my very best Home Counties accent did the trick, or perhaps my rolling eyes.

So there you are, Slobus and Texter. Both annoying.  Wonder if they’ll be there when I return to the gym in August.  Or will they have been reformed?

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