So the sun has finally made an appearance, we’ve made the brave decision to go out of doors without a winter coat (at least twice), and we’ve had our first 99 of the year.
Tá an Samhradh ag teacht lads , and we all know what that means.
It’s “beach body” time.
Immediately, we regret the 99 and longingly dream of rock-hard abs, calves of steel, and arms that don’t jiggle when we wave at people.
Panic sets in and the decision is made.
Ar aghaidh linn! To the gym!
Even by merely putting on those lycra jogging pants, we begin to feel that we’ve achieved something (probably because of the magical effect they have on our arse) and after the sports bra goes on it’s níos fearr fós!
Earphones packed, snazzy new buidéal uisce at the ready, our wallpaper changed to some cheesy motivational fitness quote, agus táimíd réidh!
Or so we think…
Once we set foot through that revolving door however, it’s a different kettle of fish.
The place is plódaithe. There’s the other newbies like ourselves of course, gaping open-mouthed at the machines (that look more like contraptions of torture than fitness equipment), we bee-line for the treadmill (because at least we know how that works, “Sure haven’t we seen it on the telly loads?”).
From this vantage point, we get to tóg go bog é a little. We’ve got all the way here and we’re finally doing something! Now, we can properly take in our surroundings, and it doesn’t take long to discern the different characters mórthimpeall orainn.
The Lycra Model, mar shampla.
These cailíní are one of the first things we noticed when we strolled through the door, for the plain reason that they are stunning.
Also known as the Gym Bunny, these particular gym–goers are a wonder to behold. Perfect make-up, straightened hair, but strong enough to break you with their little finger.
We hate them, but we want to be them, all ag an am céanna.
We’ve also got Grandad, who’s doctor shipped him here “for his health”. God bless the poor lad, he’s probably got sky-rocketing cholesterol and chronic arthritis but he’s working those wrinkly guns.
Maith thú Grandad, we’re proud of you (and only a little bit embarrassed that you’re doing better work than we are).
The Snapper is a common, modern-day presence sa sportlann. Unfortunately, they have nothing to do with the Barrytown Trilogy and everything to do with the art of the selfie.
Commonly found on the training bikes, these selfie queens will snap to their heart’s content and make sure everyone on snapchat knows they’re there (naturally, their five-minutes of rothaíocht will be broadcast as the next Tour de France, but they’re a harmless crowd really).
The Body Builders are probably the most intimidating buachaillí in the building.
Clad in wife-beater vests and very, very tight pants (so that nothing is left to the imagination), these boyos are probably lovely gentle souls, but because of their resemblance to the Incredible Hulk and the way their veins pop out when they lift the mammoth weights, we tend to give them a wide berth.
The Shameless Creeper is the slipperiest of the bunch, and the trickiest one to spot.
Normally drawn by the lure of the Lycra Model, these slippery snakes lurk in the corners to get a bird’s eye view of the ladies in action.
So bígí cúramach girls, and watch where you squat.
If in doubt of a creeper, implement the Harry Potter tactic and get checking the mirrors for any suspicious snakes lurking sa chúlra.
It’s almost like a real-life Where’s Wally, with bonus points for the County Player, the Marathon Runner and the Operation Transformation-er.
So keep your peepers peeled for next-time, my fellow gym-newbies, and enjoy.