tvs in the gym

Televisions in the gym could be a good thing. Watching some guy on tv run a marathon in under two and half hours may provide that nudge I need to crank up the speed on the treadmill for the last ten minutes. Seeing Magnus win another Strongman competition by pulling a freight train might make me toss a couple more pounds on my last set of dead lifts. Hell, even watching Arnold Schwarzenegger in Commando could add a bit of motivation to an hour in the gym.

See, televisions in the gym could be a good thing. So why the fuck does my Bally Total Fitness insist upon tuning the tvs to CNN, Dr. Phil, and weak-ass billiard competitions? Bally has tvs all over the goddamn place, usually in sets of three, and none of them ever show anything remotely related to kicking ass in the gym. I can't imagine anybody watches CNN in the gym, so change the channel to ESPN Classics and let me watch a montage of the NFL's Greatest Hits.

Generally, these tvs are soundless and those interested in hearing their distracting squawks can tune their preppy armband radios to a defined FM station; Bally considerately broadcasts the audio over low frequency radio waves for these folks. As it is, this quiet tv system works to my benefit as well, since I can completely ignore and forget the misused tvs. The exception to the soundless tv rule is the stupid tv in the locker room. Yesterday, when I was in the locker room suiting up for my work out, I was forced to hear Dr. Phil and his pathetic guests.

Cry, cry, weep, weep. I don't treat the children right. You may not have slept with him, but you still kissed him. I never intend to beat you when I get drunk. I'm sorry I fucked your little sister, but her snatch is so tight and unbelievably wet. Cry, cry, weep, weep.

After five minutes of that depressing and dysfunctional whining I wanted to shoot myself. Dr. Phil sucked my positive attitude right out of me and replaced it with a dirty film of indignity. Anything would've been better, The Simpsons, Jeopardy, Digimon, C-SPAN, any-fucking-thing. I don't understand how Bally can have this potential tool --these tvs-- and not use them for something a bit motivational.


And, since I'm whining about my gym…

Adult contemporary does not rev up my desire to do pull-ups or crunches. I have nothing against Sheryl Crow, Seal, Enya, Rod Stewart, et al. I own at least one cd by each of them. Even Enya has her time and place; unfortunately it ain't in the weight room. Metal, techno, hyper-dramatic classical Russian composers, or anything else with punch is much better suited for the gym.


One other thing…

Must the janitor mop right behind me while I'm performing heavy sets of squats? I swear his mop handle was within a foot of my head. At one point, I was certain he was going to walk right into the plates levered precariously off my right shoulder. I couldn't concentrate. I was more worried about the yahoo janitor and his yahoo mop then I was about the barbell across my back. Plus, I don't want to do squats on a wet floor; that's a recipe for a torn knee and a lawsuit.


And, one more thing…

I seriously cannot stand whiners. C'mon, either do something about the problem or shut the hell up… Oh, damn! I guess better shut up then.
...and so it was written, shenry at 5/20/2004 08:46:00 AM.
...and so it was appended with .