Don’t Cry Over Spilled Muscle Milk

Since when did all of my friends become Jew-Claude Van Damme? I’ve always prided myself on being semi-in shape, but nowadays I simply can’t keep up with my meathead brethren. 

Thanks to UFC, Adrian Peterson commercials, and “Fitness Celebrity” John Basedow, the motto “bigger is better” has taken new meaning. It’s not enough to casually workout anymore…you have to make your weightlifting a lifestyle. If you don’t pound down Myoplex, you may as well sit on your ass and play FarmVille, ‘cause you sure as shit won’t be able to out-bench me! And if you can’t handle that Gold’s playlist (Jay Sean…what’s good?), go home.

I remember when the gym used to be a friendly site of recreational fun. Now its become a place characterized by interfraternity stare downs and protein shake binge drinking. Don’t get me wrong, I do frequent my local fitness center. However, it’s hard to walk in sometimes and not feel as out of place as an Oakland Raiders safety.      

I’m all for physical well-being. But please, chill out with that techno-bumping, Rocky-like grunting, Muscle Milk-slurping, and excessively cut-off t-shirt wearing. And for the love of God, stop walking around the gym writing things down in that stupid notebook of yours! Sure, you may call it a record of your physical progress… but we all know it’s really just a diary.

If maintaining a healthy balance between work and leisure is essential, how much of a role should fitness play in our everyday lives?  I certainly don’t know. But if twenty minutes on a seated row machine is the highlight of your day, maybe it’s time to raise the bar a little. 

 

                                                                       
 

 


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