|Because nothing says fitness like lifting in the nude.|
I workout. When I say this, I don’t mean that I do excessive amounts of cardio followed by even more cardio and a splash of abs. While I do enjoy cardio intervals, I also spend my gym time lifting weights. I’m talking dumbbells, barbells and maybe even real bells if it could make me look like a badass. I’m a firm believer that lifting free weights has actually made me thinner and has definitely made me happier in my own skin, but that is of course another story.
At the gym where I workout, it’s rare to see a woman lifting free weights. Generally I’ll be the only girl hefting the heavy stuff. If I’m not, it’s usually me and this one middle-aged lady who is a complete and utter badass. Either way, I am in the minority.
Given the lack of females in the weight area, I occasionally get a look or two. This is either because I’m awesome, because I have a propensity for spandex shorts, or likely both. Usually people will look over and look away. It’s just human nature at that point; a normal occurrence that is really just people watching at its finest.
But sometimes, shit just gets creepy. A glance turns into a prolonged looked and a prolonged look turns into an awkward stare. It goes from acceptable to completely unnerving.
A few days ago, I was doing some lifting and had that feeling of being stared at. It only took a half second scan of the gym for my eyes to meet those of a bearded gentleman in his 50s or 60s. I looked away nearly as quickly as I locked eyes with him. Usually this is enough. After a person is caught gawking, their eyes usually immediately divert to something else in a poor attempt to avoid being caught in the first place.
But that didn’t happen. I could still feel the stare and as I looked up again his eyes continued to pry. I became increasingly uncomfortable as I grabbed a new set of weights and continued my workout. As I started lifting again I realized the staring wasn’t about to stop. So I looked up, met his eyes and didn’t blink. I was going to call his bluff.
Or I thought I was. He just. Kept. Staring. So I finally freaked out and dramatically mouthed, “Stop staring at me!”
And that’s just what he did. He finally got a clue and I moved across the gym. To work on my creep repellent gums of course.