It’s week two of my attempt to understand what it’s like to be the average guy. Now when I was discussing this week’s task, working out like a guy, a majority of my male friends said the only work out they do is in front of the TV, building their thumb muscles by changing the channel.
Eventually, most guys will make a trip out to the gym, usually bent on sculpting their guns. So, I decided I would give it a try. I was walking up to the front of the Morris Recreation Center when I glanced down and remembered I was wearing my homemade shirt with a “Brokeback Mountain” quote splayed across the front. Along with my iPod with light pink cover, I was not making a good first impression as a macho-man.
I went ahead and strutted to the weight room, a maze of metal and uninviting heavy stuff.
Trying to hide my confusion, I went straight for the bench press where I could lay down. I’ve never done this kind of lifting before, so I tested it out with four reps. By that time, my puny muscles were already protesting.
I was determined to do at least a couple more reps, after a lengthy break of course, and on my second attempt I realized I had maxed out … with just the bar.
And so I began to struggle as the bar threatened to crush my chest. I felt my back pop as the weight rested against me, and I kept thinking of that poor guy in “The Crucible” who gets crushed to death.
“More weight.”
A bulky guy luckily, chuckling, walked over and one-handedly lifted the bar off of me. My friend should feel guilty for not going with me, you know who you are. I warned him about this.
I moved on to a different machine, but the weights on the one I approached were too heavy for me to even lift to exchange them for some lighter ones. It’s time for more sitting.
Guys are notorious for grabbing weights that are too heavy for them, and then attempting to hide the strain. I did the same, grabbing two 15-pound free weights and beginning to pump iron. Slower and slower.
It’s time to rest and look at myself in the mirror. I can’t do this without laughing as I think of all the male models working out in “Zoolander.” A different dude walks by and suggests I switch to the 10-pound weights. I’m fooling no one. I know all I need is the right kind of attitude to pull this off, but I can’t help but feel like a phony.
It’s then a girl hoss begins her workout on the bench press.
She’s added 50 pounds of weight to the bar I struggled with, and she owns it. I’m trying not to stare, but I am impressed. I’m inspired to do some more sitting. With the 10-pound weights, I’m doing whatever I think is supposed to work your muscles. I’m raising them over my head, and behind my head, and curling them by my side.
I look around for some approval, and the same guy suggests again I trade in for some lighter weights.
With burning arms, I make my escape. And yes, I did get some hand sanitizer, because when it comes to working out, I can’t shake my girly side.