Over the last few weeks I have slowly been inching my way towards the southwest corner of the gym. The weights area. The area where males stop between every set and gaze at their own reflections for a good long while before they move on to checking iPhones and adjusting shirtsleeves, waistbands or hats then the obligatory squinty gaze (squinty to show it is intensely interesting) at one of the overhead t.v. monitors lest they have missed anything over the last two and a half minutes. Not to mention the male trainers who do all of the above while claiming huge sections of space and in moderate tones encourage their clients without seeming too invested yet interested enough to tell me they are not finished with that weight though they are clear across the gym watching a sweating client shake a rope.
These males will never have any idea the courage it takes to even attempt to venture here. To the land of weights and bars and benches. The mental gearing up to attempt actions that feel totally foreign and absolutely have the potential to be super humiliating with one wrong move. Then take into consideration the time I have to lift these damn weights before picking up the kids from the nursery who I have bribed with 99 cent Frosties. Every minute is precious and my goal is to get through the workout written on my crumpled index card as quickly and efficiently as possible while keeping my heart rate up and my posture correct. I don't have time for males gazing at their own reflections. I don't have time for pissy trainers so good looking that their character development went on the back burner in the third grade.
So I want an all female gym because though we have many fussy flaws and can be at times mean as snakes to each other especially in grade school and middle school we do know how to work out. We get it done and then we move on with our day. We pick up the children and leave the building and then we work like crazy to maneuver our entire next day so we have time to go back to the gym and do it all over again. Then we do laundry and other shit like that a million times over without gazing at ourselves in the mirror or adjusting our pants or checking in with the t.v. a single time. Take a mental note men. Take a note.