I’ll be honest – it’s been a while since I set foot in a gym. Of course, that doesn’t mean I haven’t been working out, I’ve just be doing it at home. Since my husband bought me some cute workout clothes for Christmas, I decided I should put them to use and go to the gym. (When I work out at home, I’m usually in some Felix the Cat boxers and an over-sized t-shirt from some work event that I would never be caught wearing in public.)
So I get to the gym, change by my usual locker, and head down to the women’s fitness area. I’m doing the 15-minute workouts, which consist of a very quick circuit with very limited rest. So I need everything within close vicinity and easy to access. As you might recall from my original Women Who Lift Heavy UNITE! post and the first update to this saga, the main workout floor is usually overflowing with testosterone-laden Arnold-wannabes. And everything is so spread out and machines are high in demand, it’s just a pain to hog a bunch of weights AND a machine for my circuit. So I go to the women’s fitness area which is much less crowded and circuit-friendly.
I get to the women’s fitness area, reserve myself a bench, and head over to the weight rack. Hmmm…5’s, 10’s, 15’s, 20’s…20’s…20’s…Where did my 30’s and 40’s go?
THEY’RE GONE! [dun dun DUUUNNNNN]
Oh, young trainer behind the fitness desk, you’ve failed me! Two months ago when I asked you to kindly put heavier weights in the women’s fitness area, you made every effort to fulfill my request, leading me to believe that you understood my plight! And now, behold, you’ve receded into the unforsaken mindset that women wouldn’t lift anything more than 20 pounds.
<Insert unnamed health club here> has officially lost the brownie points they earned with me.
I don’t know what’s more upsetting: 1) that they realized that no one was using them in my absence so decided to remove them because they don’t believe they should enable women to lift heavy, or 2) that no one else was using them.
Either way, I turned around, threw my towel over my shoulder, and left the women’s fitness area in disgust. If that young trainer were standing in front of me, he would have gotten a sharp ponytail wisp in the face.
I made my way down to the big workout floor, past the women on the ellipticals and stairmasters, and joined the men in their evening ritual of grunting and iron pumping. The two other women in the room were quietly pushing through their sets amidst the macho-fest surrounding them.
Stand proud, sisters. Stand proud.