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Aug. 11th, 2003 03:17 pmI've noticed an alarming new trend at my gym.
I belong to a women-only gym. In fact, 3 of the 4 gyms that I've been a member at have been women-only. The fourth and only co-ed one was the first gym I belonged to, and it scared me so much that I can't believe I ever set foot in a gym again. The big muscleheads who spend all their time on the bench press, grunting their way through just one super-coronary inducing rep, or who don't get off the pec machine until they can no longer lift their own arms, don't exactly make for a friendly gym atmosphere. I was especially wary of the free weights room; the one time I ventured in there I was confronted with the staring mocking eyes of 30 sweaty men, who, in my imagination, were sniggering at my complete audacity for daring to so much as enter the room. Like I said, this was in my imagination. I'm sure they were all perfectly nice people who were only staring at the extreme fishy whiteness of my legs. But it was enough to put me off the free weights, and when I decided to move to a different gym I rejoiced at the chance to leave the pec-masters behind.
Women-only gyms, I've found, have a culture all their own. My gym is primarily populated by women in their 30s and 40s, who flock to the elliptical machines and ab rollers and leave the weights alone. This is apparently not a gym for serious athletes, although if there were any serious lifters they'd have first crack at the free weights, which, really, should be a draw. The look is t-shirts and shorts, although it's not unusual to see women in everything from floral polyester pants and sandals to full hijab. The women often work out in pairs, getting so involved in their conversations that they forget to complete the rep, and just sit there, legs akimbo and weights hanging high.
Last time I was at the gym, though, it was populated by a whole new breed. The average age seemed to have dropped about 15 years; most of the women there didn't look like they were out of high school. And just so you know, the latest look in workout gear is oversized dance pants which drag on the floor and super oversized t-shirts. Not to sound like my mother, but surely those pants are a danger to everyone involved. And now I feel old, whereas before I always got to feel like the young thing. I'm hoping this was an aberration - I much prefer my gym as Women's Day rather than Mademoiselle.
I belong to a women-only gym. In fact, 3 of the 4 gyms that I've been a member at have been women-only. The fourth and only co-ed one was the first gym I belonged to, and it scared me so much that I can't believe I ever set foot in a gym again. The big muscleheads who spend all their time on the bench press, grunting their way through just one super-coronary inducing rep, or who don't get off the pec machine until they can no longer lift their own arms, don't exactly make for a friendly gym atmosphere. I was especially wary of the free weights room; the one time I ventured in there I was confronted with the staring mocking eyes of 30 sweaty men, who, in my imagination, were sniggering at my complete audacity for daring to so much as enter the room. Like I said, this was in my imagination. I'm sure they were all perfectly nice people who were only staring at the extreme fishy whiteness of my legs. But it was enough to put me off the free weights, and when I decided to move to a different gym I rejoiced at the chance to leave the pec-masters behind.
Women-only gyms, I've found, have a culture all their own. My gym is primarily populated by women in their 30s and 40s, who flock to the elliptical machines and ab rollers and leave the weights alone. This is apparently not a gym for serious athletes, although if there were any serious lifters they'd have first crack at the free weights, which, really, should be a draw. The look is t-shirts and shorts, although it's not unusual to see women in everything from floral polyester pants and sandals to full hijab. The women often work out in pairs, getting so involved in their conversations that they forget to complete the rep, and just sit there, legs akimbo and weights hanging high.
Last time I was at the gym, though, it was populated by a whole new breed. The average age seemed to have dropped about 15 years; most of the women there didn't look like they were out of high school. And just so you know, the latest look in workout gear is oversized dance pants which drag on the floor and super oversized t-shirts. Not to sound like my mother, but surely those pants are a danger to everyone involved. And now I feel old, whereas before I always got to feel like the young thing. I'm hoping this was an aberration - I much prefer my gym as Women's Day rather than Mademoiselle.