Sometimes I really hate gyms. You wouldn’t assume so considering I’m a personal trainer, love being active and spent most of my time in college finding ways to make a career in the fitness industry. But after working at a gym full of corporate execs and engineers who spent more time curling their phones than dumbbells while boasting about their portfolios, I came to see this gym as an extension of the office people worked at.
Working at my university gym wasn’t much better. Being filled with guys in cut-off tanks and girls, albeit quite attractive, wearing Lululemons and enough makeup to make Kiss look natural made the whole experience fill like a prelude to the night downtown that would commence a few hours later. I should make it known that I am no saint. I used to flirt at the gym (before I worked there) and I do own a few self-crafted cut-off tanks, but it isn’t something I admit with pride. Nowadays, I wear baggier clothes, lift in the mornings before the post-work rush, and lift at a small, non-Globo gym close to my house so I can truly enjoy the lifting without any of the gimmicks that are commonplace at gyms now.
So I was working out earlier today, minding my business, maybe small talking a few of the housewives that frequent the gym the same time I usually do. There is, however, a middle aged man who shows up towards the end of my lift who I’ve come to avoid at all costs. You know this man. He’s the person that always has something to tell you and will spend 20 minutes getting to his point just to realize that he has no point. I consider him a stranger because I know not his name, occupation, or anything about him besides his love for being at a gym and spending his money on supplements. I believe I’ve never even asked him a question come to think of it.
Because I’m one of the few people there in the mornings who isn’t a housewife or retired, he likes to come to me and talk about supplements and how he wants to drop a few pounds and make his push for his pro card in bodybuilding. For the record, this man is nowhere close to being ready to win a bodybuilding competition, let alone winning his pro card.
As I gather my belongings in the locker room after my workout, this gentleman corners me and asks me if I’ve heard about this new testosterone booster (I had not) and that he got hooked up at GNC earlier by getting a 30-day supply for $65.
Now I haven’t gotten into my feelings about the supplement industry yet in this blog and I won’t go into too much detail here for brevity’s sake, but I will say that no supplement is worth $65. The supplement industry is the current day snake oil salesman and, while there are some products that have proven benefits (although it’s a very small percentage), no product is worth the prices they retail for.
But I digress. I imagine this man is probably back at his house right now, perusing his latest issue of Flex Magazine (if you’re unfamiliar with this publication, it’s a magazine that consists of roughly 30% content and 70% supplement advertisements) trying to find the next breakthrough supplement that’ll help maximize his gains.
Although this is just an assumption, if he does find anything, I will surely hear about it tomorrow.