Problems with (the) Gym

I went to the gym to do my weekly step class, and a woman, who is there occasionally, comes up to me, friendly enough, and says “Hi! I always see you in this class. It’s great!” and she gives me a “thumbs up” type of gesture after which she retreats to her spot. I thought it was nice. At first. But then I realized. She was talking to me as if I was a large person doing my little-blue-engine best to exercise despite my heft. She was exceedingly thin and there was a funny tone in her voice – patronizing but not insulting on purpose. She might as well of said, “Good for you, squishy, flabby person for trying to move with all that inertia!” I stared back at her – trying to convey my irritation and that I didn’t deserve her “encouragement.” I wasn’t that overweight, maybe 15 pounds, and this only happened after I turned 50 after which my metabolism up and walked out on me like a 60-year-old man leaving his wife of 35 years for some sweet young thing. I think I could probably survive eating nothing and simply taking all nourishment from molecules in the air. I wanted to tell her I did 11 hours of cardio a week and 2 hours of weights and I could probably kick her skinny little ass across this very floor! I think people would think I was crazy, unfairly. Yeah, and I’d be the bad guy.  

 Which takes me to another gym story …

DUG at the gym