Confessions of a Gym Rat
After years of training my passion for the gym has never diminished. I love everything the gym has to offer.
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As I walked into the gym the smell of salt and sweat filled my nostrils. I loved the smell. Actually I love everything that has to do with the gym. I love the smell, sweat, grime, bars that bite, smith machines, and the grunting, swearing hardcore gym freaks.
I began weight training eight years ago, as a matter of fact. I was twenty-five and living in Atlanta. It was a strange lonely time for me and I found solace in Cosmos Fitness. My ex-husband showed me the ropes and I never looked back. I would train five or six times a week with weights (I never did cardio) and would spend two hours in the gym each visit. I would have stayed longer but working a regular job got in the way of that. Looking back, I know that I was overtraining but it was the strange love affair I could not break away from.
Not long after beginning I realized I had found a place in this world that accepted me and anyone else who dared to face off with each dumbbell or machine. Yes, it was a meat market at times but I was not there for that, although I did meet some fabulous people. People from all walks of life came to get in shape and to find the level playing ground in there lives.
When I began working out I wore a size ten pant because of my waist and weighed 135lbs. After six months my life had changed and I had found the way. I had gained five pounds but had gone down to a size four or six; depending on the cut of the clothes. I found that working out was not only for my physical well being but for my mental stability. If I missed two days of training I felt terrible but not in the guilt ridden way. I had realized in my six short months that this was the best way for me to relieve stress.
Over the years I realized that I could never quit working out. I would eat and sleep at the gym if I were allowed. I still hate the fact that I train in a gym where I have to wear shoes. I would prefer to wear flip flops or go barefoot but the average gym finds that to be inappropriate attire. My hands are no longer smooth and show my trophies of extremely hard earned calluses. Yes, I could invest in a pair of gloves but after all of the years I would be lost if I couldn’t feel the teeth of the bars biting into my hands.
There are many components in my life that have changed but this has been my constant. I would be completely lost if the gym closed.
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