So I belong to a Gold's Gym, known throughout the land as the manly man gym, where body builders and athletes trained in California back in the day. I chose mine because it had the two things that mattered most to me at the time: location and value.
I won't work out if I have to get on the T to go to the gym and my other local gym was twice as much per month and became too cost prohibitive. So, I am at Gold's.
A few people raised their eyebrows at the idea: "Are you sure you want to work out around all those men?" I guffawed, the men are way too interested in themselves to look at me. I was always more concerned with other women silently criticizing me, my shape, my form, my sweatiness. I never gave the men a second thought.
It turned out to be true. I have never felt the least bit uncomfortable there and while there are tons of overly muscled men, they all seem very nice and keep to themselves.
There is this one guy though, who works out very hard and is quite vocal about it. Most days I have my Ipod on and don't notice, but I accidentally left my Ipod on the other night and when I went to the gym realized I had drained the battery. Left with no musical interlude to cover his grunting I was forced to listen to this man strain himself for an hour. It was, well, unpleasant.
Despite that I am happy to hang out with the jocks at Gold's. It is by far the best deal in the Fenway and should I ever need steroids, I know who to ask.
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