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Pulp

DeBaise: Columnist takes look at stereotypes in Archbold Gymnasium focus group

It’s late January, and any year-round gym-goer knows what that means — the New Year’s resolution phonies are dropping like flies, the crowd is thinning and the regulars are beginning to reveal themselves.

Due to the fact that I’ve been reading some ethnographies for my writing class, I’ve developed an interest in studying small focus groups lately — albeit, not exactly in an academically-motivated, professionally-executed sort of way. It has been more of a creepy, leering-from-a-distance kind of situation. And I’ve acquainted myself quite nicely with the regulars at Archbold Gymnasium.

I want to clear something up right off the bat. By giving the idea of a gym regular, I’m afraid people are going to get this image in their head of toned athletes, dedicated people who are in great shape and are constantly workin’ on their fitness. This isn’t exactly what I’m talking about. The list of folks at Archbold Gym reads like a who’s who of strangely motivated randos who have nothing to do with one another.

Let’s take a look at skinny lifting boy. Skinny lifting boy deserves a whole separate character study. He’s such a heart-breaking tale. I’m sure he wants to get buff, and in a way, I want him to get buff too. I want a happy ending to his story. But due to the tremendous amount of skinny lifting boys that I always see, sadly taking off weights from the end of the bar as their tiny limbs fill with self-loathing, I sense a happy ending is not in sight.

I imagine these boys have some self-confidence issues, or perhaps they’ve just landed themselves a girlfriend who is way too hot for them and they’re panicking about consummating that relationship with the body mass index of a toothpick.



I say stop trying to be something you’re not, skinny lifting boy! The treadmills are waiting with open arms. And so is a career with a salary that will eventually make up for your physical shortcomings.

Which brings me to way-too-attractive-for-the-gym girl. Her hair is straightened, her make-up is perfectly applied and her outfit looks like Lululemon Athletica just threw up on her. This girl can usually be found doing about five minutes on the treadmill followed by one or two 8 lb. bicep curls and then calling it a day.

To this girl I say, from the bottom of my heart that I hope you get hit on. I hope you get a phone number and it leads directly to a weekend of so much endorphin-filled sex that you can’t even do your usual five minutes on the treadmill the next morning. Because if it doesn’t, you wasted a monumental amount of time.

I will say that this does not apply to attractive gym girls at every gym. If you’re hobnobbing with some of the social elites at the nicest gym in your neighborhood, well you keep doin’ you, ladies. But Archbold? Have some pride and set the bar higher.

There is my least favorite person in the gym, girl-who-is-perpetually-kicking-my-ass-on-the-treadmill-next-to-me. You suck, girl. You’re really the worst. You’re there when I arrive and you’re there when I eventually give up, give you a dirty look and curse you under my breath while I leave.

I’m not sure what the science is behind this but she always seems to be Asian. An Asian freakin’ rockstar who haunts my dreams.

And finally, the super old professor who is always lifting an absolutely shocking amount of weight. You, my friend, are kind of a weird dude. I feel like you might be in a financial situation where you could afford a non-campus gym membership, which gives me the impression that you’re making the conscious choice to work out in front of students.

But you know what? I dig it. I think it’s a little inappropriate and awesome, and watching to see whether or not you make it through your overly ambitious sets has become one of my favorite gym activities.

For grad students who are anxiously looking for focus groups to study, look no further. Weird people are everywhere — you don’t need to go any farther than the gym.

Chelsea DeBaise is a senior writing major at Syracuse University. She suffers from chronic looks-like-a-12-year-old-when-wearing-workout-clothes syndrome and is fighting for a cure. Her column appears every Thursday in Pulp, which is like News and Sports only infinitely more interesting. She can be reached via email at cedebais@syr.edu or on Twitter @CDeBaise124. 





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