A Love Letter to the Gym

To my dearest love The Gym,

So many others find you intimidating and I cannot understand why, my love. Evidently they don’t see how soft you are under that tough exterior.

But I understand that we all have layers to pull back before we reach our inner selves. I am so glad that I decided to pull back yours. Okay fine I’ll admit, you come off a little judgmental and sort of the player-type. I MEAN DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY GIRLS COME IN AND OUT OF YOUR PLACE ALL DAY? You’re quite the busy fella, but I know those other girls don’t matter. You have tons of temporary lovers—especially in January. Those damn New Year’s resolutioners. I hate to break it to you, but so many of those other girls use you (especially to hit on other guys and take work out selfies in your mirrors for Instagram or “to just get it over with”).

But hey I don’t get jealous because there’s enough love to go around; enough treadmills, ellipticals, weights, medicine balls, and all of the other endless gifts you spoil me with. I’m all for sharing.        

In fact, I’m glad you’re always so busy! You’ve introduced me to so many great friends, and what more can I ask of a lover than one who introduces me to great people who share moments of fun, laughter, sweat, and pain with me. I love all of my Gym’s friends; but my favorite time with you is when it’s just me and you—alone. 

Those late nights and early mornings when I can use you for as long as I’d like, never getting in anybody else’s way or having to share you. That’s when you get to see the parts of me nobody else sees—like when I can finally ditch the shirt and let it all shake as I complete a set of Burpees or when “Fergilicious” comes on and I lip-sync it by the squat rack. (That “I be up in the gym just working on my fitness” line gets me every time.) YOU’RE my witness, Gym. You never make me feel embarrassed, and I let you see me in ways I don’t like to see myself. I mean that face when I’m holding a three-minute plank isn’t exactly the cutest.

When I am with you I feel at home; my heart longs for your song. The cozy sound of breathless lungs, along with the harmonious elliptical machines chiming and the beat of weights dropping on your padded floor. I’m sorry I chime your voice out with my Netflix-watching headphone device, but just know I appreciate that between us there’s no awkward silences—ever.

You know what I like to do for fun and all of my preferences. You know I’d prefer new lulu leggings over jeans, Nikes over heels, and squats over cardio any day. 

PS: I know you told One Direction to write “What Makes You Beautiful,” about me—and for that, I thank you. Yeah maybe I am a little insecure sometimes, but that’s what you’re here for. When I walk through your door with my “I’m ready for gains,” face I do turn heads—especially from those juice heads who think girls don’t belong at the squat rack

You build my confidence and light up my world like nobody else can. You watch me improve, allow me to challenge myself, and always make me feel as powerful as Beyoncé. You make me feel alive—heart pounding, veins racing, until I’m red in the face. You’re that one guy I never regret hanging out with. Even if I don’t feel like accepting your invite, I always feel 100% better afterwards. And girls don’t seem to understand why I like hanging out with you so much—I mean don’t they know how much fun we have together?

People are always trying to convince me you’re not the one for me. My girls say I ditch them for you too often, guys tell me you’re making me too big, and most people would rather just sit on the couch than hangout with you. And so many people are sick of me talking about you all the time—but I can’t help it. (They’ll get it when they’re in love too). 

You’re always there for me when I need you (angry, sad, happy, etc.), and I couldn’t ask for a better Valentine or lover for that matter. I hope our relationship never dwindles (or all of my gains will).

With love and devotion,

That girl always at the gym <3 

PS: I swear on "off-days" I'm not ignoring you, all of us need a break sometimes. 

Tagged: