I was in the gym last night and, as I psyched myself up to perform a final set on the chest press, I was somewhat distracted by some pretty loud groaning of what I first thought to be of a pornographic nature coming from the other end of the gym. When I stopped to look, I saw an overweight, profusely sweating guy pumping a combined weight of 200 kilos (~440lbs).
The purpose of lifting so much weight eluded me; he didn’t look fit, was overweight, was sweating like a pig and seemed to regale in the fact that had managed to disturb literally every other living being within a 100 metre radius. As I continued, the groaning continued and, in the back of my mind, I recalled notes I made many months ago which I hadn’t completed. It was all about the people in the gym, and the impressions they made on me. After all, it is said that first impressions last.
We will start with
The Three Beginners. These three guys, in their mid-twenties, glide around the gym not knowing what to do really. They are of average height, slimmer than I am and the way they move through the gym – very much like a close-knit pack of dogs – makes me laugh. It’s almost as if they are taking a safety-in-numbers approach, none of them allowing too much space in case one of the big guys single them out to pick on them.
And then there’s
The Staring Duo. These two guys, in their thirties, are obsessed with Bree and I. They don’t strike me as gay, but I they are very curious creatures. They gesture as if though they are talking about us and, if Bree isn’t with me, they are even more confused by the fact that I have been
allowed out alone. The burly one isn’t burly, he’s just fat while the other one sports a mini ponytail which, in my opinion, is more out of style than a gay guy in the 21st Century! It’s somewhat unnerving, however, just how fascinated they are by us.
While we’re on the subject of fascination with the same sex, there
are two guys who are both gay and, almost instantly, somewhat unlikable. One, let’s call him
The Cow, boasts a bloated stomach which reminds me of cattle. He wears skin tight lycra, totally inappropriate given his frame, replete with cycling shots which makes you wonder what the hell he is doing! On closer inspection, however, he has shaped his eyebrows in such a way as if to emulate Garry Glitter which, let’s face it, isn’t an image to idolize after his antics with underage kids.
The second one,
Leotard Man, is an exceptional fella. Unlike The Cow, he has a body worthy of praise. Unusually in Finland, he has dark skin. He’s coloured, but not; it’s hard to pinpoint his origination, but I have heard him speaking Finnish rather fluently so perhaps he is Finn, but the result of parents from different parts of world, a rarity in Finland. Two things draw your attention to him: first off, he wears an all-over body leotard. Never have I seen this guy where shorts and a shirt like any other man. It’s almost as if he has been ski-jumping and then come to the gym for a quick post-jump workout! The second thing is the way he struts about and positions himself for his exercises. For example, getting ready to do a set of tricep pull-downs, he places his hand on the overhead bar, positions his feet away from the machine, perks out his ass (
which looks very firm in that leotard material, once can't help but notice) and then watches himself in the mirror as he slowly completes the movement.
By god, if he’s not gay, then I’m not!
Whilst talking about pert buttocks, I’m suddenly thinking about
Boobs so maybe I am not gay after all. There’s a young lady, perhaps in her late twenties, who has taken it upon herself to have her breasts enhanced. Like Leotard Man,
Boobs likes to wear skin-tight clothing, but hers is closer to the Linda-Carter-as-Wonder-Woman variety. A few weeks ago, I had an experience with her breasts (unbeknownst to her) which really would have been a treat for any straight gay, but for me, I found it quite amusing.
She was laying on her back on a bench, free-weight dumbells in each hand and proceeded to do upward chest presses. At the time, I was sitting on a machine which was two metres from the head-end of her bench. As she slowly lifted the weights, I could see her cleavage through the top of her Wonder Woman-like cut shirt which, unlike Linda Carter’s, had thin over-the-shoulder straps keeping the shirt from falling down. What was weird was that the breasts didn’t actually move, which confirmed my belief that they were indeed the gift of a surgeon's skill.
From tits, we go to legs. There’s one guy, let's call him
UB (for Upper Body), who is definitely younger than me and has been working out a lot. But, instead of becoming bulkier, he is doing it the right way; the non-enhanced way where you eat the right food and grow, not inject and grow. UB's upper body is looking quite good and, wearing a vest, his shoulders and arms are the envy of most guys. But he has sadly neglected his lower body and, wearing shorts, you wonder if his spindly legs might snap as he lifts yet another heavy weight to exercise those arms and shoulders of his. The hairs on his legs seem out of place since his legs look like those of a youngster instead of a guy in his mid-twenties.
But there is one famous gent among us in the gym, a guy who looks very much like
Earl Spencer. When I first saw him, I had to do a double take as I was so sure it was him; he is exceptionally tall, slim, confidently healthy looking and has brown hair very much in the same style as the Earl himself. He has a certain presence, arrogant yet noble. You sense that he is a decent guy, just trying his best to maintain his privacy, just like the Earl in real life. He’s an interesting character, rarely making eye-contact with fellow exercisers.
In real life, Earl Spencer is the father of four children, two of which just happen to be twins. In our gym, there are two guys in their early twenties who also happen to be identical twins. We call them the
Carbo Twins. When they first started coming to our gym late last Autumn, they looked decidedly round (
hence the 'Carbo' name due to eating to much carbohydrates perhaps?!), the result of a dedicated mother who insisted that her boys much eat. I can just imagine plates of pasta and potato and the mother approaching these already-big boys with old wives tales such as: ‘
if you eat this, you’ll grow big and strong’! In this case, it’s not an old wives tale since they
are big and I’m guessing they are strong. I’m a little envious of them because, bit by bit, they have got slimmer and more defined so I’m guessing maybe they left home recently?!
And so we have come full circle, back to those guys who love to show off by grunting and groaning. I mean, tennis champion, Martina Navratilova, wouldn’t get a grunt in edgeways around two boys in particular, who we will call
Grunt & Groan. They are in their early twenties and they are steroid junkies: in a space of less than a year, their necks have expanded to become bigger than their heads! And, like the guy in the gym last night, they get a kick out of getting that last bit of attention by groaning as if their appendix was about to burst.
In summary, life in the gym would be dull without these people. Sometimes, I wish I could go up to them, get to know them, but it’s something you just don’t do. Gyms in Finland are much more superficial than gyms in England. In England, people use gyms as meeting-places, a place where friends recommend friends and one acts as a support for another as they sweat it out. At some gyms in England, they even organise social events, something unimaginable in Finland. A Finn's love of silence, and their desire for solitude reigns supreme even in a room full of people who share their interest in fitness.
28 days have come and gone during which I have eaten no meat, no sugar nor alcohol, except for a one-evening slip-up earlier this week, which couldn't be avoided! 
