Tuesday, September 18, 2012

The True Price Of Perfect Abs


I started gyming. Again.
I may have mentioned this before in a previous post, but since nobody who visits my blog remembers anything I write, let's pretend this is the first time you're hearing about it ;)
My target body is the one I had back in my college days. I've lost the original pics, but for all intents and purposes it was pretty close to the one above . That's my body, that's my story, and I'm sticking by both of them.

My first week into my gym routine and I realized that my OCD (as diagnosed by my best friend who moonlights as a clinical psychologist when she's not buying me exotic tea's and drinks or bestselling books) was going to be tested to it's limits.
I have a thing for cleanliness.
Nothing crazy or abnormal by any stretch of the imagination. I'm just finicky about certain things.

Like other people's sweat or bodily liquids. Especially if these are to be found on the handle-bars of the bicycle I'm about to use, or the seat of the rowing machine I was heading toward, or the bench I was about to sit on in the locker-room, or on the little button I need to press at the water cooler, or on any handle of any door I'm meant to open or close at the gym.
Like I said, nothing crazy or abnormal.
Everybody has a freak out when they see or come within 1 meter of someone else's perspiration. And if they don't, they bloody well should.

That's why I never fully understood the Steam Room at the gym.
I'm no scientist, but my Standard 6 understanding of basic precipitation tells me that the steam room is one huge recycling contraption that circulates other peoples sweat. You go in there with 4 strange fat guys, they each drip sweat like a burst geyser, the steam circulates that dripped sweat around until it latches onto you like a hungry leach, and you come out thinking "Wow! Look at how much I perspired in there! I feel awesome!"

Now I know most gyms have a strict policy about having a shower before using the swimming pool, and for good and obvious reason too. But let's be honest, who's policing this policy? I've seen a group of guys come out of the Sweat Exchange Room and jump straight into the pool like it was the most natural thing since carrying portable disinfectant wipes.
Your average gym swimming pool is approximately 200 000 litres.
On average most gyms chlorinate their pools once a week, at a weak concentrate so as not to affect the skin and eyes of gym goers.
I only know this because I made some inquiries, as I'm sure everyone who's ever signed a gym contract has done.
Based on these numbers, if herds of sweaty people are jumping into the pool every day, compounded by the Sweat Exchange Room dripaholics, and gyms are using the bare minimum in chlorine to disinfect their pools, it would mean that by my rough calculations, within 6 months all natural water has been replenished by OPS (other peoples sweat) and you're practically swimming around in a massive Perspiration Pool.
I'm pretty sure this thought has crossed your minds before.
Next time you think wearing swimming goggles helps keep germs out of your eyes, think again about opening your mouth in that pool!

Next week we discuss the ultimate germ warfare incubator. The kind of germ laboratory that would make Al-Qaeda proud.
Yes ladies and gents, the gym toilets and showers comes under the spotlight.
Watch this space...

Here's to 6pack abs :)