No shirt! (gag!)

It should have been very simple. An easy, distraction-free, simple training session. Functional strength: one hour (give or take) doing functional strength. So simple, that I can do the workout at the gym in our apartment complex.

Perhaps that's where I went wrong.

After all, at Whiting Field NAS or Pensacola NAS (oops - Naval Air Station for all those non-military-speak people out there), last time I checked shoes and shirts were required apparel.

Its about safety after all, right?

Who hasn't dropped a weight on their foot at one time or another? Jeez, I hope I'm not the only one with my hand up here. What I meant to ask: who at some point hasn't dropped a weight or plate close to their feet at some point?

And at the military gym, shirts are definitely a requirement. Although some of them are so stretchy that you can't really tell. And I'm talking about the guys here, not the ladies. Anyways, sweaty skin all over benches and other equipment. Yuck. I have a pretty bad gag reflex, so the last thing I want when approaching a weight bench is Mr. I'm-too-hot-for-a-shirt's imprint on the thing.

I have been known to walk around with a bottle of disinfectant. Only because I don't like seeing the sweaty imprint left over the equipment. And it would be even grosser (is that a word?) if they were shirtless.

But that's not the case at the apartment mini-gym.

About 15 minutes into my workout, a young-ish guy walked into the gym. Immediately he set out on the treadmill and spent a good 20 minutes running. I didn't pay too much attention to him; I was more focused on holding my planks or not dropping the 12 pound weights on my feet (ahem). I did noticed that he worked up quite a sweat.

Apparently Mr. Treadmill-Runner wasn't all that familiar with deodorant. Oh well, it's a gym. What should I expect.

After completing his run, my companion headed over to one of the bikes. Without wiping down the treadmill, I might add. Something that I find very offensive 1) Because he was really sweaty 2) Because I am a stickler for wiping down the equipment even if I've only been warming up for five minutes on it and 3) Because once as the Fitness Director of the New Bern YMCA, I wiped down equipment all the time after sweaty individuals. It was gross. And sweat corrodes and breaks down the machines.

For a moment I thought about saying something, but then decided against it. I'm not a big fan of confrontation and besides, it's not my gym. If the guy wanted to be a jerk - let him be a jerk. I'll pick my battles, thank-you-very-much.

So I continued my functional strength and noted Mr. Biker work up an even bigger sweat. But only out of the corner of my eye; I didn't want him thinking I was watching him. After all, there were mirrors all around.

Focus Marit! Form on functional strength! Abs tucked in and tight while you do your backward lunges! Balance and posture! No sense in falling over because you're amazed at the sweat rate of the guy on the bike!

Okay, I do talk to myself.

And that's when it happened.

Mr. Sweaty got off the bike and removed his shirt.

Time out for a second. I'm a fan of the male physique. I really am. I've been known to admire a good looking body any day - and of course I'm partial to Nathaniel's.

But there are just some people that shouldn't remove their shirts. At the beach - totally acceptable. You're at the beach and lack of clothing is acceptable. If you're fine with your body the way it is - that's great. More power to you. I've got my own body issues and it's rare that you'll find me in a two piece unless I'm at top form. And I realize that. I do admire others who can simply let it all hang out. They're accepting of themselves and that's wonderful.

But when your back hair looks as though it needs to be mowed, taking off your shirt in the gym and then leaving it off while you lift weights for 20 minutes is totally unacceptable!

He could have been a Wookie from the rear view. (Close your eyes, and imagine the Wookie sound). A cousin of Chewbacca, as far as I was concerned.

I didn't know weather to laugh or to throw up.

It was so gross: the hair on this guys back was - for lack of a better word - amazing.

You could barely see any skin.

The front part - aka his chest - was fine. It looked suspiciously smooth, but I wasn't about to move closer for inspection. A few glances confirmed that the front side of him was a hairless wonder.

But the back was a different story. He looked like he belonged on Planet of the Apes. Seriously. And he wasn't that old - perhaps mid 20s?

The thing is, it was so distracting. You know when you're driving past a car accident and you know that you shouldn't look out of respect for the victims, but you can't help yourself because its so fascinating?

Yeah, that was me at the gym.

I kept telling myself to not look, to not take a peek.

But it's like with junk food or my favorite piece of yellow cake with chocolate frosting. The minute I tell myself "no", I want it even more.

From an anatomical standpoint, it was fascinating. You could teach little kids about "smooth surface" "hairy surface" by simply having this guy turn around.

And the problem was, is that he didn't put his shirt back on. For the remainder of his workout, he lifted weights, sat on the equipment with his shirt off. I was more disturbed than anything else.

Well, he was confident. I'll give him that.

And I realize that my gag reflex is getting better.

So there you have it; my adventure at the gym while doing functional strength. There really should be a disclaimer; no shoes, no shirt, no entrance to the gym. Unless you're hairless and well toned on both sides. Then I'll consider it. Until then, all bets are off.