Making your masculinity in the gym

The women in this gym seemed different. They looked good, but they took time to relax. They would tease their male friends, or possibly boyfriends. They mocked in a gentle way guys who seemed too pretentious. If I was puzzled or uncertain in my never-ending struggle to become an acceptably tough male they would help out in a matter of fact way.

The guys, too, were the best of the bunch I’d seen. They seemed to have lives that they fitted the gym into, rather than fitting their lives around the gym. There were older guys, younger guys, businessmen and tradesmen. The gym had parties and outings. It wasn’t perfect but it was the best I’d found so far.

Even Aussie Gym has its crazies. One day John came out from his cave behind the counter and was marching around half naked, showing off his arms and chest. "You could look like this one day, Peter" he said. "Great, thanks!" I called back as I was nearly flattened underneath an overloaded bar. This gym, too, seems to have closed or moved, as when I drive by its door is always shut.

I don’t know what I think about gyms, finally. Maybe I prefer to be a real person instead of looking like somebody in a cartoon. Maybe I prefer to have a life and go to the gym, not have a life in the gym. But God help us, it looks like making your masculinity in the gym is the future for men in Sydney.