We must all avoid using the gym as a place to get facetime. Yes, even you, girl that blowdries her long locks before languidly running on the treadmill at Alumni Gym during the "Busy Time." Don't get me wrong, I totally understand that the desire to be seen in the right place at the right time with the right people wearing the right outfit is one of the most important motivating forces for many a Dartmouth student. I get that no one actually goes to First Floor Berry to study. Hell, one of my editors (may he rest in peace) once accused me of using my column as a "conduit for facetime." The nerve!
Honestly, I'm just as indulgent of facetime as the next fellow, but there is a certain point at which I draw the line. When Alumni Gym turns into some sort of b-side beauty pageant for the kids that used to get picked last in dodgeball, I ask myself, "When is enough enough?" Are we all just shameless attention whores?
On those rare days when I do drag my sorry, overweight senior ass from my off-campus abode all the way to the gym, I am certainly not coiffed and color-coordinated. My typical gym outfit usually consists of pink knee socks or some other dorky pair of socks that no one who has done laundry in the past month would ever wear, oversize man shorts that make me look like a wannabe homie and some cutoff tank top that I got in a 5K and makes me look like a burly redneck. And you know what? I consider this quite normal.
When getting dressed for the gym, you're supposed to reach into the drawer and grab the first clean thing that touches your hand, not stand in front of a mirror strategizing and styling. In case everyone forgot, one goes to the gym to get sweaty, not to sweat other people.
I pity you poor fools who straight-iron your hair and match your running shorts to your hair tie to your nail polish. If you think that I don't see you not so subtly checking yourself out in the mirror every time you strut over to the mats so you can do pelvis thrusts and other sexual "exercises," think again. And to the dude who puts on a theatrical presentation every time a girl walks by, grimacing as he says, "One thousand and one, one thousand and two": you really needn't. I know you've only done three reps, and I also know it's a five-pound weight. You all give fitness a bad name.
In conclusion, treating the gym as a place to see and be seen is just wrong. Don't do it. And one more thing: Karima, Annie, Ilissa and Sam, you guys are the best roommates ever! (Hey, I never said I was against facetime outside of the gym.)
Katherine is a staff writer for The Mirror. Lightning : Lightning Rod :: Katherine : Facetime.
