Probably gyms are not my cup of tea

 Probably gyms are not my cup of tea

 

My daughters have been relentless. “Dad- You need to get fit!” they said on my birthday. At my age, I believe wisdom grows as muscles shrink, but they weren’t buying it. So, with a heavy heart (and an even heavier body), I decided, on the weekend , to check out a well-known gym close to our place, to see if I could summon the courage to join. In fact, on the way there, I began convincing myself that I would, and in my silly stupor, I saw myself working out regularly and beefing up in a short span of time. I was inspired and I was ready – this was going to be life changing. 

The moment I stepped inside, my eagerness began evaporating and I was overwhelmed to say the very least. The place wasn’t a gym- oh no! It was a high-octane, sweat-soaked coliseum of fitness, alive with the clanging of weights, the rhythmic pounding of treadmills, and the relentless drive of bodies in motion." Music blared at an earsplitting decibel, presumably to drown out the collective grunting. Towering bodybuilders stomped about like modern-day gladiators, their muscles glistening with a sheen of perspiration that had to be seen, to be believed. Meanwhile, lean women with taut bodies sprinted furiously on treadmills, as if auditioning for an action movie.

As I ventured further into this fortress of fitness, I couldn’t help but marvel at the people who seemed to embody the very essence of health and vitality.

The men were an imposing sight. Most were tall, broad-shouldered, and bursting with muscle in places I didn’t even know existed. Their tank tops clung to their physiques, barely containing their bulging biceps and rippling torsos. Veins snaked down their arms, pulsing with every curl of an oversized dumbbell. They moved purposefully, some striding across the gym with the confidence of lions surveying their domain. Their faces were intense, jaws clenched in determination, and every so often, a loud grunt or roar escaped as they pushed their limits. The air around them seemed charged, like they were warriors preparing for battle. A man near me pushed about six strips of gum into his mouth, and began chewing with a vengeance, like there was no tomorrow, before moving towards a rowing machine. 

Then there were the women. They were no less impressive, each picture of elegance wrapped in sheer power, some very pretty. Their outfits were sleek, vibrant, and as form-fitting as a second skin, revealing beautifully sculpted arms, toned and tanned legs, and abs so well defined, they could double as washboards. Some were on the treadmill, running at speeds that would leave me gasping after a few minutes. Others gracefully moved through strength exercises, lifting weights that looked impossibly heavy, with a calm, unbothered expression. Their hair, whether tied in tight, high ponytails, or wrapped in colorful headbands, seemed to defy the humidity of the gym. Many of these men and women looked like models -Impossibly fit, with sculpted perfection, radiating confidence and making people like me question, not only our life choices, but our very existence "

I stood there, wide-eyed and rooted to the spot, while people around me lifted weights that looked much heavier than me. Others were rowing so fiercely; I half expected their machines to crack under the strain.  Dumbbells clanged, fancy machines whirred, and everywhere I looked, there were headphones of every size and shape, creating an eerie symphony of panting and muffled beats. They all seemed to be from a totally different planet, and no one I had ever visited

One gentleman caught my eye as soon as he entered, and I watched him with a tinge of envy and dismay. He had certainly arrived prepared for a lengthy fitness expedition. Out of his enormous sky-blue bag there emerged two large bottles of water, a bottle of protein shake (which he guzzled with gusto), two pairs of trainers , a pair of slippers two large towels, a headband, wristbands, black headphones, and—wait for it—a bunch of bananas. He spread his belongings out like a picnic setup, while eyeing his domain and waving to fellow gym buffs- he was a regular, as everyone seemed to know him. He then began a vigorous warm up session – stretching and jumping, punctuated by guttural grunts that could give a bear in distress, a run for its money.

Warm ups complete, he wolfed down two or three bananas and then   lunged forward with a barbell balanced across his shoulders, his face a mix of focus and grit. Moving to the bench press, he powered through heavy reps, his muscles straining with every lift. Nearby, he transitioned to pull-ups, his body rising and falling like a machine in perfect rhythm. Finally, with dumbbells in hand, he attacked bicep curls, sweat glistening as determination radiated from every movement. Ironically, his T – shirt had the word MIKE printed on it! 

I must admit - the overall dedication was palpable. Couples worked out together, encouraging each other with subtle nods or high fives, exuding a sense of camaraderie I hadn’t expected. I saw one duo sharing a laugh, as they swapped a set of kettlebells, only to immediately transform into focus machines the moment they started lifting.

Amidst it all were the quiet outliers, the loners in their corner, small earbuds firmly in place, tuning out the world, as they performed their simple routines with military precision.

We were then shown the innumerable saunas, steam rooms, cryotherapy chambers, infra-red tables, ice bathrooms and whatever else they had available.  These spaces provide holistic wellness beyond just workouts, appealing to fitness enthusiasts and those seeking rejuvenation alike. They appealed to me! There was also a small café which looked inviting . 

Beyond the chaos of the spacious gym floor, a 50-meter pool glistened under the sun, where swimmers glided like graceful dolphins. Their energy, vitality, and stamina were awe-inspiring. I, however, felt deflated just watching. I can hardly swim to save my life.

 Beside the pool, people lounged on deck chairs, sipping hot coffee or fresh juice or whatever. Everyone looked chilled and relaxed except me. I couldn’t wait to get out.  

 My visit was awe-inspiring, yet utterly intimidating. These men and women were living proof of what the human body could achieve. I, however, felt more like an out-of-place observer in their temple of transformation.

As I shuffled back to my car, I decided this gym wasn’t for me. I’d get fit...somewhere less terrifying. Maybe yoga? Or perhaps just walking briskly round the lake, like I often do. Maybe I will also start meditating! 

Probably gyms are not my cup of tea.