I now believe I hold the key that unlocks the mystery of why people avoid working out in gyms.
It’s because of those individuals who believe tai chi is the ONLY FORM of exercise. And if you aren’t with their specific program, you are against them.
Today, I was against them.
They breath, wave their hands in circles, bend over and sweep the floor. They work on breathing techniques that mimic Lamaze. Ultimately they find their “inner peace” and “positive energy.”
And today, I wasn’t going to let them have either of those.
Before opening the door to the sacred tai chi room – which is really the common room at the facility unless you have reservations – I asked the lady at the counter if I was allowed to go in there. She told me yes.
I have been working out at this gym for two years. And for two years, I have been at odds with these six ladies.
Today, I stood my ground.
I waltzed into the room, water tumbler in my hand and arm band holding my phone with my earbuds.
“You can’t be in here. We are having a class,” the tai chi bitch leader told me.
“Yes, I can. The lady at the counter told me you have not reserved the common room, so I have the right to be here,” I replied walking to a corner, far-far away from the center where they were gathering in a circle formation while what appeared to be waving flies away overhead.
“Are you the LOUD exerciser?” the tai chi bitch leader asked me.
“Excuse me?” I said, holding my earbuds inches from my ears to drown out their God-awful peaceful-Zen shit.
“Are you the one who is loud when she works out?” she asked again.
“No,” I said – thinking in my head, I guess I won’t snap my fingers today while I work out. (I was willing to bend my rules a little.)
“Well, we are going to be walking here soon,” another chimed in.
At this point, I was getting pissed. They were chit-chatting during their tai chi and all I wanted to do was workout.
“Fine, go ahead,” I said, again, thinking in my head, I can bust all of your asses with one swift roundhouse kick.
For 10 minutes I worked out in peace.
And then, then it was time for them to fucking meditate.
I saw the one lady from the corner of my eye with her ugly sweater, shirt and brown shoes. She walked toward me and stood there, waiting with her arms folded.
Again, she interrupted my workout. Nothing pisses me off more than bringing my heartrate down during a workout. I have calories to burn damnit in order to lose 20 pounds in two weeks before vacation.
“What?” I said, sweat dripping down my face.
“Um, we need to meditate now. You have to go,” she said.
“JESUS CHRIST! I pay the same fee you ladies do to use this room. You have not reserved it. It’s the COMMON ROOM! I’m going to the front counter!” I shouted, grabbing my water tumbler.
All six followed suit.
It was six against one. I was bound to lose, but I didn’t go down without a fight. My mama didn’t raise a quitter. And my dad, well, he doesn’t take any shit from anyone.
That’s when the gym manager was flagged down.
They told her they wanted to meditate in peace. She wanted to know who their instructor was – if you have an instructor that means the room is reserved.
“We don’t have an instructor,” they replied.
They complained to her that I ruined their “inner peace” and “positive energy.” I kept my mouth shut. That alone took skill on my part.
Until they complained about how I danced. Apparently, my feet are too loud and I breathe.
Oh the horror!
“I didn’t even snap my fingers or sing! I just did my thing in the tiny corner!” I yelled. “This has been going on for two years!”
The tai chi bitch leader stared at me. She didn’t believe me.
“It’s true. You ladies close that door, blare your music and NO ONE feels like they can go in there and some days, some days I want to use different equipment! Like a kettle bell, BUT I CAN’T! You dominate that room! And some days, I don’t want to lug the mat, kettle bells and weights to the gym!”
“We will help you,” one said.
The fuck you will.
“No, I will take care of myself. I always have,” I yelled as I walked away, moving myself to the gym.
Everyone there knows I bust-a-move on the floor. I get along with everyone there – except the tai chi bitches. They are a special breed.
They should just be happy I don’t know any karate.