By Benjamin Law
I never thought I'd be the kind of person who "worked out". Why would I go to the gym when I was never going to be overweight? If anything, my Chinese genetics and metabolism meant I teetered closer to being medically underweight, my body shape usually hovering somewhere between "Asian prisoner of war" and Gollum from Lord of the Rings. Plus, whenever I passed a gym, no one seemed to be having fun. They resembled sad factories where everyone stoically manufactured sweat via a process that was all grunt and no climax.
Then, in my mid-20s, I decided I was sick of being a runt. I got medical advice from my GP about how to gain weight ("Do weights; eat more; it ain't rocket science"), signed up to my local gym and – sickening even myself – found it enjoyable.
Illustration: Simon Letch
I subsequently fell in and out of love with gyms: oscillating between underweight and normal BMI; toned to "torso resembling melted candle". But when I shattered my elbow, gyms became a fixture of life, for better or worse.
And it is often worse. Some days, my gym seems to be a reservoir for the most reprehensible human behaviour. The other week, a deranged meathead shoved me off my weights machine barking, "CAN I JUMP IN?" with the same urgency a parent would ask, "HAVE YOU SEEN MY CHILD?"
He then changed the weights mark, did a frantic series of reps and walked off panting. "Working in" – letting people do reps while you're resting – is common courtesy when the gym's busy, but I'd only just stopped and the gym was near-empty. Leave me in peace with my physio-prescribed exercises and ABC podcasts, you freak, I thought, death-staring him.
Most gym rules are common sense, but I'm stunned by how many people are oblivious to them. The first rule is the same as at a nudist colony: bring a towel. The second is: place weights back in order. Don't drop them as it makes everyone flinch (which isn't great when someone is lifting free weights above their skull) and it wrecks them.
Controversially, I know a lot of Australians are uncomfortable with nudity in change rooms, but I reckon we're a bunch of prudes. If you wanna let it all hang out, go ahead. But if I'm naked, please don't come up to say how much you enjoy this column. (It's happened.) I appreciate the feedback, but you can see my balls. Finally: if you can, visit the gym off-peak. It will mean the whole place is yours. In which case, you can do whatever the hell you want.