Wednesday, April 23, 2014

Don't Tread On My Badass

To the dude at the gym this morning:

Maybe, in your experience, there are women who come to the gym solely to flash a cute booty and flip their hair around while balancing two-pound dumbbells in their hands, though that's not what I see in our club. I see people of all fitness levels who are dedicated to improving their lives and health with exercise. Bravo to us all.

I didn't even notice you at first, because I was swinging a 25-pound kettle bell, using my hips to leverage the weight up in the air, level with my shoulders. It's not a difficult exercise, but it is effective and I do like to focus on my form so I don't do it incorrectly and hurt my back. So when, mid-set, it penetrated my brain that you were behind me, repeatedly calling out, "Look over here!" to my back, I chose to ignore the annoying noise because I immediately assumed you couldn't possibly be bothering me when I was so engrossed in my workout.

But you were. Your eyes were right on me--my backside, really. I could see you looking my way in the mirror in front of me, and I immediately felt annoyed and bothered. Maybe you were trying to be cute, but what you did, instead, was basically harass me. Because you only stopped your endless "Look over here!!" calling when I finally threw you an irritated glance in the mirror. Our eyes met. You were smiling. I was not.

After that, you made no more attempts to get my attention, and for that I am grateful. Grateful that I didn't have to interrupt a really good workout to deal with you. Grateful I didn't have to get rude. I am not a confrontational person but believe me, when you treat me like an object while I'm getting my badass on, it makes me unhappy. The claws will come out next time.


Meg of the LPB

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