Did you all enjoy that Workaholics reference? Good. Now, let’s get into it: Gym selfies are just the worst. Well, actually, selfies, in general, are kind of the worst, but that’s a whole different article, and I suspect you’d like to get home to have dinner with your kids tonight, so I’ll hold off.
I should probably backtrack a little bit, right? Okay, here we go: I was at the gym the other day, trotting along on the elliptical like a majestic gazelle because that’s how I look when I exercise, and definitely not like this:
But, again, that’s not the point right now. So there I was, elliptical-ing along like the fit and trendy ~*basic-bitch*~ I am, and I decided that it was probably best that I move along in my workout process before I sweat all of the paint off of the machine. So, I go to the little baby free weight section for people with little baby arms, trying not to get knocked unconscious by the bros dead-lifting massive barbells and staring lovingly at their triceps, and I can’t find any good mirror space to make sure my form is up to par. You know why? Because BETCHES BE TAKIN’ MIRROR SELFIES AT THE GYM.
I mean it. They didn’t even have the decency to take up the mirror space in the locker room, which probably wouldn’t bother me any less, but still, it’s the courteous thing to do, right? But here they were, taking up the prime mirror space, preventing me from watching myself pump some serious iron, Arnold Schwarzenegger-style. And it was really freakin’ annoying.
Now, I know what a lot of you are thinking. “Sara, you just don’t like gym selfies because you’re jealous that all these other ladies look like glamorous beauty queens, and you look like a dripping, sagging beast when you’re done at the gym.” And you know what? While that may be true, that actually has nothing to do with it. It’s more about my attitude toward working out and why I and many other men and women are at the gym, to begin with. The vanity that comes along with the need to take a gym selfie is something I find unpleasant, and it’s that kind of attitude that I don’t like being around when I’m workin’ on my fitness. It’s the same reason that Planet Fitness has all those “no lunks” campaigns—no one, no matter her skill or fitness level, wants to go to the gym and feel like they’re taking part in some pageant that they didn’t sign up for.
I think it also speaks to our inability, especially in my generation, to keep anything to ourselves. Personally, I don’t really need for people to know exactly what I’m doing when I’m doing it. I’m not a fan of Snapchat stories. I don’t check in with Foursquare or whatever new app the kids are using these days to tell the Internet and also every stalker ever where they are, and, despite the fact that I write this column, I honestly don’t care whether or not people know how frequently or infrequently I work out. Frankly, my life is nobody’s business, and I don’t really like the “pics, or it didn’t happen” mentality that so many people have nowadays. When did photo documentation become key in completing even the most inconsequential daily activities?
So yeah, maybe my frustration with gym selfies has more to do with my general frustration with the current societal attitude of having to document every time anyone blows their nose, but guys, really, you’re supposed to leave all that crap at the gym door. I hardly think the weight room is a sacred place, but if you’re going to get any real work done, it’s better to stop caring what people see, what people think, and what people know about you for the hour that you’re there. It’s really not that hard to do.
But then again, I love it when male celebrities take shirtless selfies after they work out, so maybe I’m just a huge hypocrite. Whatever.