Running Into Punjabis in a Gym

Out of the many things we Punjabis are obsessed with, showing off is one. And I'm not even generalizing. There are hardly any friends of mine who don't, at one point or the other. How can you not talk about gym enthusiasts then? I have been to quite a few gyms till now since I've changed my accommodations more than I've changed my bags in the past few years. And I've been itching to write about the people I've met there. So let me begin.

Men and women are slightly different when it comes to gyming. The menfolk I know of love to post pictures mid or post-workout, showing off their muscles. My own husband does that. He even has an obsession with going to the mirror every now and then to have a look at himself. He just did that again while I was typing this. Anyhow, that's not it. They love to talk about it too and would keep giving free gyan (lessons) on being fit and shoving protein shakes in your face.

Some enthusiasts get so enthusiastic about it that they turn it into a profession. And since some of them don't even bother to pay attention to anyone other than themselves all their lives, they end up being a nightmare for people like us.

I joined a gym for the first time when I was doing my post-graduation. Since I barely knew how to operate half the equipment and had no clue about a proper regime to shed some extra pounds, I'd paid extra for a personal trainer. I didn't get one but more. Since the trainers kept changing their shifts, I had to bear with the one who was free on any given day. Even though I wasn't that overweight back then, I seriously lacked stamina. On the very first day, I told the very thing to my trainer, so he started me off with some basic exercises. That went on for about two days. Then a new trainer made me do so much that the next day I was barely able to reach the gym, let alone do the workout. When I finally met my first gym instructor and told him so, he flatly refused to talk to the other guy, telling me there was nothing he could do about it. I never really felt relaxed enough going there and kept looking for excuses to skip the gym quite often.

Another gym, another area, same city. By then I'd joined an organisation and had erratic working hours. I never really felt fresh and energetic but decided I needed to keep moving to avoid falling ill. Same issue. When I'd hurt my neck, an older guy had told me he knew how to relax the muscles. Thanks to him, I had to go to a physiotherapist later.

Back home, the gym I joined had trainers for all. Though the trainers here were better than the ones in the big city I'd come back from, here the issue was different. The owner had kept his personal physiotherapy machines to help relax the muscles of people. It was later that I got to know that he had seriously injured people with them since the girl operating them barely knew anything about the human body.

Post-marriage, in another city, I'd joined a much costlier gym with my husband. The trainer remained the same. But I always had a doubt he didn't want me to lose weight anytime soon. We'd had to leave it since they had started renovating during working hours and there was dust everywhere all the time. Plus they had more than doubled their prices for beautifying their gym (which we hadn't asked them to do in the first place).

In another gym close to our house, the trainer was told I had a recurring backache for some time. He would keep asking me if I needed a cushion for my back while working out. He was always scared for some reasons I never got to know.

But it was in gyms only that I started hating people in general. And can I be blamed?

In almost every gym I went to, there would be women talking endlessly with the gym instructors while working out, sometimes so much that I would have to waste my time waiting for them to finish so I could ask what else to do. Some women would exchange numbers with them and then would complain when they had started flirting. And this happened almost every time. I never exchanged numbers with anyone. I'd been to a graduating college where I'd witnessed real desperation among people to find a partner. So I was wary of men in general.

Then there were women who would keep talking about their kids or kitty parties they went to or were going to or wanted to go to. At the top of their voices. Some would keep listening to their own music on their phone (no earphones in sight) while the gym music was already too loud. There was a group of women who wouldn't even let the air conditioners work so they could conveniently sweat more. In the month of May-June, at the top floor of the building where sunshine reaches easily and there aren't enough fans, you can even faint for an hour or two straight if you aren't careful enough. But people are people. You can only shoot yourself or stop going to the gym if it bothers you. Because there is no point arguing with a group of like-minded(?) ladies.

But I've saved the most mind-boggling experience I have had for the last. There was a gym I used to go to where a bunch of women had once all of a sudden brought out a cake, potato patties, and cold drinks to celebrate the birthday of a gym instructor. I had joined the gym recently and barely knew anyone. But they'd insisted I join them and since the instructor seemed like a nice guy and I felt he might be homesick or something, I had agreed. After almost 90 minutes of workout, I had been having unhealthy snacks with them. Then they had produced a gift for him, which looked quite expensive, so to say. Later when they asked people to contribute, most of the women refused. Since I'd joined in the feast, I decided to pay. But they made me pay for the gift as well. A few weeks later, they started celebrating a woman's birthday in the gym as well. I had no words. I left before they brought in the cake (again). This kept happening for quite some time and once when I refused the owner, I overheard his wife saying people go on having parties outside but act like they're special while here.

Because yes, I otherwise always woke up eating cakes and patties on the birthdays of people I barely knew.

Because yes, I had paid for a restaurant cum gym.

Because yes, I had no other life than making birthday plans with gym mates (or going on kitty parties with them).

And because yes, I had a gold mine in my backyard and I used the money to throw parties for no reason.

There had ever only been one gym I'd really felt being a part of, where I would go regularly, even when it rained heavily and it made it difficult to walk through the potholes. I once joined an aerobics class while I had recently moved into a place as a paying guest while working. Almost all the women in my gym group were older than me, yet far more energetic and flexible. While I would fail to do a yoga asana, some of them would do it effortlessly. We also had a lot of variety. We would do aerobics, yoga, stretching, strength training, and try different forms of dance such as bhangra, salsa, etc. It was a beautiful time.

The owner of the gym was a lady who would also sometimes take us to parks in the morning where we would do jogging and other exercises in the lap of nature. Fresh air. Then we would sometimes go and have a healthy mixed juice. I was never allowed to pay there. The women who had cars would then drop us off in front of the gym. Even when free, they would usually talk about health and fitness only. Not about kitty parties or cakes and pastries. I liked it there. And I still sometimes miss those days.

So I guess I never was the kind of person who could get earphones on and forget the rest of the world while working out. In my defense, they keep falling off and I don't like the wire getting entangled everywhere.

Also, I hate the makers of women's workout clothes who believe we don't need pockets.

Talk about hypocrisy.

It's not even easy for me to stay active on my own, and work out regularly at home. There's always some reason or the other for that. I don't like people watching me, for once. When I had a park nearby my place of residence, I was too lonely and depressed to go. Now that I'm not so lonely, I'm waiting for the pandemic to pass to get moving again.

Perhaps I will get more material to write on this in the future. I was kidding. I promise I won't make this particular article longer than it already has become.

Or I might.

Who knows!