Haters gonna hate...

I hit the gym right after work today, hoping to squeeze in a good workout before the “Dangerous Winter Storm Iago” pounded us with 3-5 inches of snow. I swear, mid-westerners must think we are idiots.  I also thought the pending snow storm would curtail some of the gym newbies still high on their New Year’s resolution kicks from the gym and over to the grocery store for their staples of milk, bread and eggs. I am always amazed at how many people flock to the stores to get these few items. I don’t know about you, but if it is going to snow and I am going to be stuck inside, I don’t want my only meal option to be French toast. How about packing the cart with some chicken and shrimp, fruits, veggies and you might as well throw in some expensive wine for good measure. I mean really…

Once again, I digress and truly apologize. Back to the gym topic. If you look at the world through the eyes of 3LW (to save you country lovers the hassle of looking this one up, it is a hip hop, soul and R&B group popular in the early 2000’s), there are four types of people in this game we call life: playas, haters, callers, and ballers.  Over 99% of the time, I would consider myself a baller – I have style, class, and am generally good at what I do. I typically don’t do stuff I am not good at because it pisses me off, but that isn’t really relevant to this topic of conversation. But over the past two weeks, the New Year’s resolution seekers who are clogging up the gym are throwing me off my game. I will be the first to admit that at gym time recently, I transform from baller to hater. I know, it is shameful and I should wish the best for others and be in support of their healthy choices, but they are just constantly pissing me off. Last week, when I was walking in, one lady had the nerve to complain that she couldn’t find a parking spot and she had to walk a long way to the gym. Really? Another one strategically positioned herself in front of a large group of guys before bending over to do her “stretches.” They were cute, but puke. One guy tried to carry on a conversation while we were swimming laps, and another farted his way through spin class. Today was much better. Whether it was the snow or just the fact that it is 17 days into the month and people’s steely determination and laser-like focus on getting healthier has faded, the gym has gone back to normal. Just the way I like it.