Just went to the gym. It was pretty funny.
There were about six or seven people in the enormous fancy workout room. Here’s what I observed from my treadmill in the corner:
- Italian men and women love to stretch. They do this extensively before their big ten to fifteen minutes of either walking slowly on a treadmill or doing the stairmaster, in which they climb the most teeny tiny steps I’ve ever seen. Even midgets would find them absurdly small. Mice could climb those steps.
- The “trainers” who worked there wore nice dark jeans and sweaters layered over pressed collared shirts. They spent their time checking out women doing nothing in their tight workout pants, and standing uselessly around unused machines. One was very, very concerned about his hair.
- Two men lifted weights (each maybe eight reps total. They dragged it out so the two women had a better chance of witnessing it). One sat and crouched towards the weight rather than lifting it, while the other swung the weights back and forth so that the momentum would bring the weights up to his shoulders. I laughed quietly in my corner.
I think I am the only one who has ever broken a sweat in that gym. People screamed and ran in fear as I weaved towards water fountain panting with a red face and a messy bun. I don’t think they realized that people can look like that.
It is a rare and precious moment when I feel somewhat culturally superior to the people of Italy; and though it may be slightly ironic considering we’re the ones with the rampant obesity problem, I’m going to hang on to this small victory for dear life.