To my beloved Gymtards…

Dearest Gymtards (you know who you are) -

While your weight slamming, excessive grunting, 1-rep sets are the pinnacle of poor training, I am thankful for you. Yes, I know that no matter how my day is going, your presence is going to make me smile. You creep me out a little when you follow me around the gym and leer at me (please stop doing that); nonetheless, I am strangely delighted when I walk in the gym, and you are there.

I used to allow myself to get annoyed with your antics, but I have since learned that there is no point in fighting it. You are not going anywhere, so I have embraced you for the pure entertainment you bring me during an otherwise boring date with the stepmill. You are an odd creature, you gymtards, and there are many things that I just cannot figure out about you. For instance, why do you always have to wear your Bluetooth earpiece? What is in the gallon jug of pink liquid that you carry around with you, slurping between sets? Why, despite your apparent level of intensity, do you still have a beer belly? Where did you learn your…”form”? Can you form words, or are you only able to grunt? Are you having a midlife crisis, or have you always been like this? Are you a virgin?

Oh, never mind. I know I am being silly. Gymtards, I love you as you are and I hope you never stop frequenting gyms across the U.S. (surely you have not spread globally?). You will always hold a special place in my heart.


This Girl Trains