Isn't the Gym Supposed to Relieve Stress?

As far as I know, people go to the gym to relieve stress. I mean, some have loftier goals of "losing weight" or "toning muscle" or even just a generalized "get in shape", but really people go to the gym for the brain-happy endorphins. Well, except for those weird people who go to the gym trying to pick up other (likely weird) people. I don't get those people at all. But we'll get to that.

So Tuesday night rolls around, and I'm a bit stressy. Actually more than a bit. There were work explosions, Comcast annoyances, wedding irritations, and even a small level of guilt over not having gone to the gym once in almost a week of being signed up. All in all I was about one stubbed toe away from punching random people on the street, and thought what better way to bring the stress level down than the gym? Endorphins make me happy! Yay! I rustled up the Charles and off we went.

Knowing that my arms were going to be weak (I can't tell you the last time I did those physical therapy exercises...shhhhh don't tell) I decided that would be a good place to start. I headed over into meat-head land and planted myself in front of one of those bicep curl pulleys. Moved the weight down to the minimum "default plate" and started lifting. And then came the pain. Looking back, I should have expected this. Stretching my arm all the way out makes my elbow creak pretty much every time. How it never occurred to me that adding weight to the equation might exacerbate the situation is still a mystery.

Pull up....
Creeeeeak
Let down
Poppoppop craaaaaaaack

Well, that's just lovely. I'm lifting 10lb weights (and really should have been doing 5lbs had the machine allowed it) and am sweating like its mid-July on rep 2. And not from exertion, so much as horrid grindy pain. I keep pushing forward; I'm going to do at least two sets. It'll never get better if I don't work it, right? Only all I can think in the back of me head is, "how in the hell is this supposed to be stress relieving?" I mean, I don't feel anything other than annoyed that my arm is still gimpy. Well, annoyed and hot. So I finish out my two sets and head over the shoulder press machine. I mean, if I'm going to be pissy about injuries, better test out how bad that area is doing.

Not surprisingly, the shoulder press is worse. I can remember working up to a whopping 40lbs once upon a time on this machine. I mean, its always been the bane of my existence - I think I was born with abnormally weak shoulders or something. But now I am struggling...and I do mean struggling to lift 10lbs more than once, all the while wincing while my collarbone made the absolute worst. grinding-noise. ever. Freakin' awesome. I swear by this point, I am twice as irritated as when I hit the gym parking lot. Will my upper body function ever get back to normal? This whole destressing thing is just not working for me!

And then there was creepy gym guy. Now, all gyms have a creepy gym guy. Its basically a fact of life. As far as I can remember, I've never been to a gym which didn't have a creepy gym guy. So why does this annoy me? Shouldn't I have expected him? Well, probably. But you have to remember that everything annoys you when you are already upset. Snowball effect or something. And just because you are a creepy gym guy (hereafter CGG), doesn't mean you need to do it around me. But there I was, on the shoulder press machine, irritated as all hell at my collarbone, watching the scrawny ghetto-gangsta wannabe, who likely lives at home while his upper middle class mother pays for his baggy sweatpants and thick gold chain, stares like his life depends on it at this tiny little girl on the hip swivel machine. (Technical term, for sure.) I mean, I would not be in the least bit surprised to find out that the man was drooling the way he looked at this chick.

What do you do with a situation you can't change? Remove yourself from it. So I go downstairs to hit the ab machine, only to find CGG sitting down eye-molesting some lady in a blue bikini at the pool. Great. At least he's not looking at me. So I start doing my crunches, a mere two machines down only to realize at some point that CGG hasn't moved. In awhile. Like...a long while. So I tuuuuuuuurn my head ever so slowly to the right...and all the sudden he's a whirlwind of activity. EEEEWWWWWW! Like watching him ogle women I don't know wasn't bad enough? I had to provide material for him too? GAH!

Shortly after, I hit the ellipticals and actually started to get some happy-brain-drugs kickin. About 15 minutes into my spinny cycle, "Paint it Black" came on the otherwise horrible gym mix and I rocked out, Stones style. By the time I left the gym, I was ever so slightly less stressed than when I went in. All in all, a net gain...but barely.