Re-Rack Your Damn Weights!

For some reason the gym seems to be the source of most of my rants and raves.  Maybe the endorphin rush gets my brain spinning in ways sitting in front of a computer screen doesn't. The gym is one of the few places where soccer moms and juiced meatheads co-exist in perfect harmony.  Alcohol must be the ultimate catalyst because at the bar these same meatheads want to deck you for 'looking at them the wrong way' and make an entitled pass at every female above a 5.

I will be the first to admit I hate the gym with every fiber of my being.  It doesn't help that they are crowded and usually smell like one of Vince Wilfork's farts.  In fact, I'm convinced only athletes in training and narcissists enjoy the gym.  I know if I didn't put in my six hours a week I would look like Joba Chamberlain after a week long bender at the Sizzler.  Since I don't have Joba's bank account it would make it very difficult for me to ever land a date with anyone better looking than Susan Boyle.  There is a history of diabetes in my family, so I also go for health reasons.

There is still one gym paradox that never ceases to amaze me.  The same people who work incredibly hard to sculpt, tone, and shape their bodies are also among the laziest people I've ever seen.  Let's start with the parking lot.  There is always a mad dash to get the closest parking spaces.  Hello, you're going to the gym to burn calories, what is the big deal about walking an extra hundred yards.  Hell, the way I look at it you're getting a head start and getting the old heart rate up before you ever curl your fist dumbbell.  The parking spaces should fill up from back to front.

Next are the bench pressing jackasses who leave the three 45 pound plates and one 25 pound plate on the bench bar.  Do they really believe everyone benches 350 lbs with the ease that they do, or are they just LAZY?  C'mon guys (or East German women) take the minute to take the plates off for the rest of us.

The final group are the worst offenders.  I have a special contempt for the jerks that don't re-rack the free weights, or insist on putting a 20 pound weight in the 80 pound weight slot.  If you go at a busy time of day, you will be lucky to find anything less than 55 pounds sitting in it's proper spot.  Locating a 25 pound dumbbell becomes a challenge from 'The Amazing Race.'  Since most of us use 10-30 pound weights it makes things annoying.  Seriously, how hard is it to walk 10 feet to re-rack a dumbbell after three grueling military presses?

I was once the most egregious of offenders, but as is often the case in life the shoe had to be firmly on the other foot for me to see the error of my ways.  One summer I was the weight room proctor at my college's rec. center.  The weight room closed at 11 P.M., and I wasn't allowed to leave until all the weights and plates were properly racked.  Unless it wasn't a busy night, or everyone was considerate, I was the one stuck racking all the weights.  It was annoying and I realized if everyone did their part I wouldn't have to be there until 11:30 every night.  Those of you who go to a gym regularly and read this blog all I'm asking is take the extra 30 seconds to re-rack your damn weights for the sake of your fellow gym goers and the employees!