I like going to the gym at around noon-ish.
At that it’s mostly out of shape people over 40 and great older folks in their 70s.
Although I don’t talk to anybody at the gym, I’ve come to see these nice older people as my friends. Okay, I’m being a bit facetious. Well, a lot facetious.
But, I want to describe these lovely people who work out when I do.
There’s a woman in her 70s who I’ve only ever seen on the treadmill. She usually wears a pink or light blue sweater with khaki pants. Her gray hair is in a ponytail that she wears on the top of her head. From my vantage point on the track, it looks like she has her eyes closed as she exercises.
There’s an adorable, obscenely short woman with super short gray hair and glasses, who wears shorts, and carries a piece of paper with her exercising plan on it around the track. She’s really cute.
There is an older gentleman who was dressed like Spiderman. He had a Spiderman shirt with matching exercising shorts, and red exercise leggings with webs on them.
Then, there are the older people who decide they want to walk in the middle lane of the track when the sign clearly says that the far right lane is for walkers.
The whole gym is peppered with these grandparents working out in jeans, corduroys, and shoes that aren’t even remotely okay for exercising.
But I like them. These wonderful people are exciting to work out with. I feel super awesome when I do.
So then, a couple of weeks ago I decided to go work out a little earlier than noon-ish. I think it was around 9 a.m. Imagine my horror when I arrived and the gym was filled mostly with attractive young people in their 20s and 30s.
I started jogging around the track. And then, this hot chick with her perfect ponytail, blonde hair, and matching fitness outfit kept lapping me around the track. I kept it together, but inside I looked like this.
When it happened the third and fourth time, I had an internal battle with myself on whether or not I should stick my arm out as she was passing me to trip her.
Later, I had to ask myself why I was so mad. I was mad for the sole reason that she was hot and in better shape than me. What if somebody saw me at the gym and was like, “Look at the girl with the brown frizzy curly hair in a messy bun, of average attractive level, trying to get fit. I want to trip her.” I would think that person was a bitch/douchebag.
I was a bitch for a minute.
Now for clarification, I don’t want to blonde. Never have. Well, there was a short time in 7th grade I had blonde highlights.. And I don’t even want to be as skinny as that chick was. I’m a curvy woman. I’ll always have childbearing hips that won’t go away unless I give up food permanently. (Which will never happen.)
This is a long shot, but a word to ladies out there.
The next time you find yourself “hating” on another girl just because she’s more (blank) than you, ask yourself if you’d like her to hate on you for the opposite reason. If you’re reasonable, you’d say no.
Cuz that’d be dumb.