For a year and a half, J. and I have been going to the gym. Initially, even though it was my own idea, I was very much against it. On the day that we went to go sign up, J. repeatedly has to ask me if I was okay, since I was pouting so much.
(I harassed J. to be my workout buddy since she was just as unfit and reluctant to go the gym as I was. This was key. Did I want to go to the gym with someone who’s already a workout super star? No, because I didn’t want to feel inept. Did I want to go with someone who considers a visit to the gym to be the highlight of her day? No, because I wouldn’t be able to patiently tolerate such enthusiasm. I’m just being honest.)
The rational part of me knew that working out would be good for us- cardiovascular fitness, ability to climb a set of stairs without huffing and puffing, etc. etc. However, the sloth-like part of me did not relish the idea of running on a Treadmill like a gerbil in a wheel, nor the idea of waking up early to work out before work. I like my sleep. Don’t judge.
Astoundingly, we have stuck with our workout regimine rather than giving up in exchange for a few more precious hours of sleep each week. When we go to the gym, we spend about 25 minutes on cardio equipment and then 30 minutes doing the little circuit with flashing lights telling you when to move to and from various weight machines and step aerobics areas. There are 10 blocks for steps and 10 weight machines. Red and green lights tell us when to go, stop, and switch stations. We huff and puff and endure the best we can.
Yet, there is one thing that even we, the unathletic and unfit, have no patience for- the germy people.
Common courtesy says that you should use the prominently displayed paper towels and disinfectant spray to sanitize whatever equipment you’ve used when you’re done using it. There’s usually a great deal of sweaty-germiness going on. That sweaty-germiness is transferred to the machine wherever your body comes into contact with the machine. Hands, butt, back, shins, abdominals, forearms, and more.
However, there are some people that, for reasons unknown (Obliviousness? Selfishness? Laziness? Spite?) do not wipe down their machines. J. and I are astounded (ASTOUNDED!) when we witness this. Seriously? You’re really not going to do anything about the pool of sweat you left on the rowing machine seat so that later an unsuspecting person will sit in it?
Sometimes, J. and I are directly affected by the sweaty-germy people if they are ahead of us in the aforementioned 30 minute circuit. As a result of this happening to us numerous times, we have come up with a plan to educate the germy. You know, because we’re magnanimous like that and all.
Should we identify a germy culprit, we make sure to position ourselves ahead of him (or her), so that he can see us. Then after we’re done with the station, we go to the paper towels and spray and ostentatiously use the towels and wipe down our station. Paper towels get ripped from rolls with flourish. Spray bottles of disinfectant are used to produce clouds of mist. We continue to do this at each station, even if our paper towel does not need rewetting. Usually, the germy learn their lesson within three or so stations and begin using the sanitation supplies provided to them. Success! Hygiene! Yay!
Now, you must be thinking- This sounds pretty passive-aggressive. Why don’t you just go up to them and suggest they use a towel? There are several reasons. 1) How would you like to be told by a stranger to remember to wipe up the filth you left behind? No, we wouldn’t use those words, but that’s the message. It’s awkward and embarrassing. 2) As has already been established for me and is also true for J., we just don’t like interacting with people and try to avoid it on various levels.
Are J. and I ridiculous? Maybe. Are we helping the germy? Yes. With our passive-aggressive intervention, we are preventing the germy from the ire of other gym members. We are encouraging our gym community to be a happy and healthy. What’s so wrong with that?
