i can;t go to the gym. i can’t i want to be beautiful and work out and have a beautiful body. but i want my curves in fact… i love my curves. i love my butt, i love my waist. am i heavy? no. i can’t go to the gym/. my boyfriend is in love with my because of who i am and i will not change it. i need to maintain my weight for prom. i am beautiful as is and that is it.
whenever i pass those people dedicating hours to a body that is decaying despite all effort, i want to scream. i want to yell to them, all of them, that beyond those doors lies an entire world available to keep them in shape for a while, if they would just walk a ways and live.
i have been meaning to go there, but never have time. the word sounds short, but the thing itself is not. Bryn Mawr gym is nice. I like the roof. I dont want to meet one person there. thats why I dont wanna go
i do not take gym
people dont like that
they dont think it’s fair
but i have a reason
i just dont like to talk about it
dont tell me it’s not fair
you cannot comprehend
what i’ve been through
so please
don’t prentend that you understand
and that you get a say in it
and that you get to criticize me
i do not like gym
gym is the worst class ever… The guys never pass to you cuz you are a girl but in reality you are better than them. And they are just retarded cuz they know nothing!!
at the gym, i feel so self conscious, because i have fat knees. they budge out like a bruise. but the thing is. its not a bruise. its where all my fat goes.
I found myself at the gym again, which is not somewhere I like to find myself. I feel I am constantly being choked by the sea of testosterone one will inevitably swim in at the gym. Why try to bulk up when invariably you began to think it isn’t enough?
I hate the gym. Never really gone, to be honest. But it’s so intimidating! All those sweaty, unfit people looking at all the other sweaty unfit person thinking: ‘Are they judging me?’ All judging each other, then that one built kid comes in and everyone feels shit about themselves.
I regret in many ways my lack of persistence in attending the gym; especially seeing as I am paying £17 a month for 3 years. Of course, it all started with the best of intentions, but within 2 months it had all clearly gone tits up. Well, at least I still have another 2 and a half years.
Today I went to the gym. It reminds me of her, every day. How she got me to follow her alone, how she pushed me against the lockers. It sounds romantic. It’s not.
Worst experience of my life, and people always write it off as something I should be grateful happened to me.
I went to the gym, the place I hadn’t been to in years, yet it was like fifth grade all over again. Like Mandy telling all those kids how much she hated me, how horrible I was, and oh, how she cried! I was the devil on the balance beam.
the gym sucks! The gym if for doing gymmy stuff and trying to impress people you might not even like! Some might say its to keep people looking good and keep an impression when it actually is just hell.
Where you can see just how vain people are. The place where inseccurities come out and we rebel by jogging 30 more minutes on the threadmill or doing one more pu
The gym was more of a playground, since I didn’t know how to use any of the equipment. None of the other middle-aged “athletes” seemed like they knew either. It’s funny how serious everyone was here, when really, they all looked like too-serious-toddlers on the playground.
I miss the gym. I used to feel so fit, so in shape. I used to go every Saturday. And every Saturday turned into every evening. And every evening turned into an obsession. I love all the people at the gym–all from different walks of life doing the same thing: working out, getting fit, losing weight. It’s like something simple unites people so unique, so different. And it’s not like the gym is something for the upper crust. I’m not upper crust. I’m basic. I’m everyday. I’m average. But I’m there with the business men, the entrepreneurs, the nannies, the chefs, the accountants, and the high school kids. It doesn’t matter who you are. Because everyone is doing the same thing, but in different ways and for different ways. The gym allows for individuality, and yet unity. It’s amazing. It’s the gym. It gives you motivation.
Gym. Gym class. The one class I’m not the best in. I would always dread going, standing outside the locker room, waiting for someone to save me. Once, we had to play football, and unfortunately for me, I was personally plowed by a varsity soccer player. Gym was always just so fun.
is a place i went to to get fit didnt go to well hot girls low selfesteim and built dudes me flabby fat weak and sad it was cool at 1st but then i was like i want sex with them but cant get stoped going got fatter truth be told
Gym class. Middle school days. Immature jokes and giggles and so much we didnt know. back when we were all friends, back when none of this shit mattered. of course there were still problems, but at least you still had a since of hope left.
I love going to the gym. When I put in my earbuds and hit play on my “Workout Playlist,” I immediately feel healthy and energized. I start with stretching– getting my limbs warm, feeling ready to sweat out my stress, my toxins, my bad energy. Then I swim. I jump into the pool, do sixty laps, shower and call it a day– a really great day, in fact.
As soon as Jake turned the gym lights off he heard the worst scream ever.
“Oh my God…No!…Jane!”
It took a few minutes for the lights to warm back up, but when he could finally see there were four gorgeous aerobic instructors surrounding him holding…
Our world is one giant school yard gymnasium. As adults we act as we did on that hot concrete, segregated under the monkey bars or behind the slides. Nothing has changed. Being an adult means being faced with tougher challenges, but we go on as we did when we were young. A 360. A fucked up 360.
A place to dribble basketballs and smell the stale popcorn and remember gymclass — a dozen years ago or mroe high school memories longer than that really. Girls in sweaters in the bleachers boys trying to do what they can to look cool it sounds like a Bruce Springsteen song if you change the gym for car or car for gym. I need to work out more. Never will be in that good of shape again.
Going to the gym is not always fun, but its totally worth it. Getting fit and looking good is important, and in the future you’ll be healthy and live for as long as you want. It’s good to want to live…To be or not to be, that is the question. whether tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune or to take arms agains
Now this is a story all about how
My life got flipped-turned upside down
And I liked to take a minute just sit right there
And tell you how I became the prince of a town called Bel-Air
In west Philadelphia born and raised
On the playground is where I spent most of my days
Chillin out, maxin, relaxing all cool,
And all shooting some b-ball outside of school
When a couple of guys who were up to no good
Started making trouble in my neighborhood
I got in one lil fight and my mom got scared
And said “You’re moving with your auntie and uncle in Bel-Air”
I Begged and pleaded with her day after day,
But she packed my suitcase and sent me on my way
She gave me a kiss and then she gave me my ticket
I put my walkman on and said I might as well kick it
First class yo this is bad
Drinking orange juice out of a champaine glass
Is this what the people of Bel-Air living like?
Hmm this might be alright
But wait I hear prissy, bourgeois and all that
Is this the type of place they should send this cool cat
I don’t think, I’ll see when I get there
I hope they’re prepared for the prince of Bel-Air
Well ah the plain landed and when I came out
There was a dude that looked like a cop standing there with my name
out
I aint trying to get arrested yet I just got here
I sprang with the quickness like lightning dissapeared
I whistled for a cab and when it came near
The license plate said FRESH and it had dice in the mirror
If anything I can say this cab was rare
But I thought ‘naw forget it yo homes to Bel-Air
I pulled up to the house about 7 or 8
And I yelled to the cabby “Yo homes smell ya later”
I looked at my kingdom I was finally there
To sit on my throne as the Prince of Bel Air
I just got back from the gym. My hair is a mess and I’m sitting here trying to regain my strength. I’m finally feeling strong and almost beautiful. It’s working. I’m becoming exactly who I want to be.
Today at the gym I did 100 crunches. Gym sounds like Jim but Jim is a name and gym is a place. Gym rhymes with hymn, even though hymn ends with N. Fat people usually go to the gym for their New Years Revolution for a week, then stop because they’re so fat.
I hate the gym. And gym class. I just don’t like it. I suck at sports. They make you feel sweaty and gross. Plus I’m lazy. And that’s pretty much all I have to say about this glorious subject.
I went to the gym at 6 AM as usual, but, to my surprise, a neighbor that I seriously don’t like was there and I had to decide whether or not to stay, and if I did stay, whether or not to acknowledge her. Tough call. My sense of politeness and wishing for good among all people told me to stay and say hello, but, I gotta tell you, when you don’t like someone, it’s hard to do what’s right.
I don’t like gym. When i was thirteen i went for gym but after a few lessons i stopped and instead of going there i started smoking. i smoke my first cigarette in front of the building where there was the gym area.
Tess’ pink manicure glistened in the changing room as she put on her pink aerobic tights and headband. She opened the door and headed into the gym. Punching the bag! Kicking the bag! Biting the bag! Clawing at the bag! A loud ripping sound resounded through the room and sand spilled out of the heavy bag. Dozens of inflated, vein-popping biceps stopped lifting weights and all rope jumping ceased. The men were all quiet as Tess continued punching at the pile of sand on the floor, screaming furiously about the pink and purple Vera Bradley handbag that bitch snatched out of her hands at Macy’s that afternoon.
When she stood up, out of breath, fists bleeding, with white foam around her mouth, she asked, “Does anybody want to spar?”
After a short, pregnant silence, the gym resumed the clanking and clopping of weights and ropes.
Just another day. Pain. Sweat. Work. Let me work for it. I feel like I’ve earned this. And yet something else is driving me. Something bigger. What do I want to achieve? What do I want from my body? Ache. Bleed. I want this so badly. Perfection. To achieve it. Why can’t I have it. Harder. More weight. More repetitions. Please.
i hate going to the gym. i would much rather go to a yoga studio or run on the beach, or go to the dog park for more fun. the idea of sweating infront of a bunch of random people stuck in a large room with mirros is not my idea of getting fit, getting healthy and working on a better self. do yoga! get out in the sun, we have an outdoors for a reason.
The gym is where I had the most fun as a child. I always wanted to go there during school, and I never got bored. We would play with a parachute sometimes, and all the kids loved it. Sometimes, our gym teacher would allow us to run underneath of the parachute, and the ones who got to the other side were considered the coolest kids of the day
i would love to go to the gym. i am very unmotivated. i don’t even hate my body 100% of the time. just when i’m putting on pants or a tight shirt. and dudes don’t hate it either. but i should probably go just to be healthy, right? because i had four slices of pizza and two fattttening cookies for dinner, so. going to die sooner than later. the gym is probably a good idea. oh well.
I don’t go to the gym because i don’t want to run on the spot with lots of other fat sweaty people breathing in their exhalations when I could be outside running from one place to another with lovely wind in my hair.
Gym. The class in which those who were unworthy were weeded out based on primal standards. The kid with the glasses was hit in the face with the cruel dodgeball. The kid who couldn’t climb the rope was teased. Gym was where the strong thrived, and those weakened by society were punished.
The gym is where we go to stay trim. The gym is smelly but it gives me the chanc to flatten my belly. I run, I lift,
What an interesting concept, strangers exercising together, alone, self-conscious, self-confident, sweaty, germ-y, and usually flirty.
i can;t go to the gym. i can’t i want to be beautiful and work out and have a beautiful body. but i want my curves in fact… i love my curves. i love my butt, i love my waist. am i heavy? no. i can’t go to the gym/. my boyfriend is in love with my because of who i am and i will not change it. i need to maintain my weight for prom. i am beautiful as is and that is it.
whenever i pass those people dedicating hours to a body that is decaying despite all effort, i want to scream. i want to yell to them, all of them, that beyond those doors lies an entire world available to keep them in shape for a while, if they would just walk a ways and live.
i have been meaning to go there, but never have time. the word sounds short, but the thing itself is not. Bryn Mawr gym is nice. I like the roof. I dont want to meet one person there. thats why I dont wanna go
i do not take gym
people dont like that
they dont think it’s fair
but i have a reason
i just dont like to talk about it
dont tell me it’s not fair
you cannot comprehend
what i’ve been through
so please
don’t prentend that you understand
and that you get a say in it
and that you get to criticize me
i do not like gym
gym is the worst class ever… The guys never pass to you cuz you are a girl but in reality you are better than them. And they are just retarded cuz they know nothing!!
at the gym, i feel so self conscious, because i have fat knees. they budge out like a bruise. but the thing is. its not a bruise. its where all my fat goes.
I found myself at the gym again, which is not somewhere I like to find myself. I feel I am constantly being choked by the sea of testosterone one will inevitably swim in at the gym. Why try to bulk up when invariably you began to think it isn’t enough?
I hate the gym. Never really gone, to be honest. But it’s so intimidating! All those sweaty, unfit people looking at all the other sweaty unfit person thinking: ‘Are they judging me?’ All judging each other, then that one built kid comes in and everyone feels shit about themselves.
I regret in many ways my lack of persistence in attending the gym; especially seeing as I am paying £17 a month for 3 years. Of course, it all started with the best of intentions, but within 2 months it had all clearly gone tits up. Well, at least I still have another 2 and a half years.
Today I went to the gym. It reminds me of her, every day. How she got me to follow her alone, how she pushed me against the lockers. It sounds romantic. It’s not.
Worst experience of my life, and people always write it off as something I should be grateful happened to me.
I went to the gym, the place I hadn’t been to in years, yet it was like fifth grade all over again. Like Mandy telling all those kids how much she hated me, how horrible I was, and oh, how she cried! I was the devil on the balance beam.
the gym sucks! The gym if for doing gymmy stuff and trying to impress people you might not even like! Some might say its to keep people looking good and keep an impression when it actually is just hell.
Where you can see just how vain people are. The place where inseccurities come out and we rebel by jogging 30 more minutes on the threadmill or doing one more pu
The gym was more of a playground, since I didn’t know how to use any of the equipment. None of the other middle-aged “athletes” seemed like they knew either. It’s funny how serious everyone was here, when really, they all looked like too-serious-toddlers on the playground.
The jungle gym.
I miss the gym. I used to feel so fit, so in shape. I used to go every Saturday. And every Saturday turned into every evening. And every evening turned into an obsession. I love all the people at the gym–all from different walks of life doing the same thing: working out, getting fit, losing weight. It’s like something simple unites people so unique, so different. And it’s not like the gym is something for the upper crust. I’m not upper crust. I’m basic. I’m everyday. I’m average. But I’m there with the business men, the entrepreneurs, the nannies, the chefs, the accountants, and the high school kids. It doesn’t matter who you are. Because everyone is doing the same thing, but in different ways and for different ways. The gym allows for individuality, and yet unity. It’s amazing. It’s the gym. It gives you motivation.
Gym. Gym class. The one class I’m not the best in. I would always dread going, standing outside the locker room, waiting for someone to save me. Once, we had to play football, and unfortunately for me, I was personally plowed by a varsity soccer player. Gym was always just so fun.
is a place i went to to get fit didnt go to well hot girls low selfesteim and built dudes me flabby fat weak and sad it was cool at 1st but then i was like i want sex with them but cant get stoped going got fatter truth be told
ew! ahhhhhh! running! noooo!!!!!! workout. fitness. detention. . . . .sex! . . . basketball. . . football!!!! uniforms. . . . dressing room. . . awkward. . . worst time ever. . . . hate high school. . .
Gym class. Middle school days. Immature jokes and giggles and so much we didnt know. back when we were all friends, back when none of this shit mattered. of course there were still problems, but at least you still had a since of hope left.
tonight, saint patrick’s day night, no one will be at the gym.
I love going to the gym. When I put in my earbuds and hit play on my “Workout Playlist,” I immediately feel healthy and energized. I start with stretching– getting my limbs warm, feeling ready to sweat out my stress, my toxins, my bad energy. Then I swim. I jump into the pool, do sixty laps, shower and call it a day– a really great day, in fact.
As soon as Jake turned the gym lights off he heard the worst scream ever.
“Oh my God…No!…Jane!”
It took a few minutes for the lights to warm back up, but when he could finally see there were four gorgeous aerobic instructors surrounding him holding…
Our world is one giant school yard gymnasium. As adults we act as we did on that hot concrete, segregated under the monkey bars or behind the slides. Nothing has changed. Being an adult means being faced with tougher challenges, but we go on as we did when we were young. A 360. A fucked up 360.
A place to dribble basketballs and smell the stale popcorn and remember gymclass — a dozen years ago or mroe high school memories longer than that really. Girls in sweaters in the bleachers boys trying to do what they can to look cool it sounds like a Bruce Springsteen song if you change the gym for car or car for gym. I need to work out more. Never will be in that good of shape again.
Going to the gym is not always fun, but its totally worth it. Getting fit and looking good is important, and in the future you’ll be healthy and live for as long as you want. It’s good to want to live…To be or not to be, that is the question. whether tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune or to take arms agains
Now this is a story all about how
My life got flipped-turned upside down
And I liked to take a minute just sit right there
And tell you how I became the prince of a town called Bel-Air
In west Philadelphia born and raised
On the playground is where I spent most of my days
Chillin out, maxin, relaxing all cool,
And all shooting some b-ball outside of school
When a couple of guys who were up to no good
Started making trouble in my neighborhood
I got in one lil fight and my mom got scared
And said “You’re moving with your auntie and uncle in Bel-Air”
I Begged and pleaded with her day after day,
But she packed my suitcase and sent me on my way
She gave me a kiss and then she gave me my ticket
I put my walkman on and said I might as well kick it
First class yo this is bad
Drinking orange juice out of a champaine glass
Is this what the people of Bel-Air living like?
Hmm this might be alright
But wait I hear prissy, bourgeois and all that
Is this the type of place they should send this cool cat
I don’t think, I’ll see when I get there
I hope they’re prepared for the prince of Bel-Air
Well ah the plain landed and when I came out
There was a dude that looked like a cop standing there with my name
out
I aint trying to get arrested yet I just got here
I sprang with the quickness like lightning dissapeared
I whistled for a cab and when it came near
The license plate said FRESH and it had dice in the mirror
If anything I can say this cab was rare
But I thought ‘naw forget it yo homes to Bel-Air
I pulled up to the house about 7 or 8
And I yelled to the cabby “Yo homes smell ya later”
I looked at my kingdom I was finally there
To sit on my throne as the Prince of Bel Air
I just got back from the gym. My hair is a mess and I’m sitting here trying to regain my strength. I’m finally feeling strong and almost beautiful. It’s working. I’m becoming exactly who I want to be.
Today at the gym I did 100 crunches. Gym sounds like Jim but Jim is a name and gym is a place. Gym rhymes with hymn, even though hymn ends with N. Fat people usually go to the gym for their New Years Revolution for a week, then stop because they’re so fat.
I hate the gym. And gym class. I just don’t like it. I suck at sports. They make you feel sweaty and gross. Plus I’m lazy. And that’s pretty much all I have to say about this glorious subject.
I went to the gym at 6 AM as usual, but, to my surprise, a neighbor that I seriously don’t like was there and I had to decide whether or not to stay, and if I did stay, whether or not to acknowledge her. Tough call. My sense of politeness and wishing for good among all people told me to stay and say hello, but, I gotta tell you, when you don’t like someone, it’s hard to do what’s right.
I don’t like gym. When i was thirteen i went for gym but after a few lessons i stopped and instead of going there i started smoking. i smoke my first cigarette in front of the building where there was the gym area.
Tess’ pink manicure glistened in the changing room as she put on her pink aerobic tights and headband. She opened the door and headed into the gym. Punching the bag! Kicking the bag! Biting the bag! Clawing at the bag! A loud ripping sound resounded through the room and sand spilled out of the heavy bag. Dozens of inflated, vein-popping biceps stopped lifting weights and all rope jumping ceased. The men were all quiet as Tess continued punching at the pile of sand on the floor, screaming furiously about the pink and purple Vera Bradley handbag that bitch snatched out of her hands at Macy’s that afternoon.
When she stood up, out of breath, fists bleeding, with white foam around her mouth, she asked, “Does anybody want to spar?”
After a short, pregnant silence, the gym resumed the clanking and clopping of weights and ropes.
Just another day. Pain. Sweat. Work. Let me work for it. I feel like I’ve earned this. And yet something else is driving me. Something bigger. What do I want to achieve? What do I want from my body? Ache. Bleed. I want this so badly. Perfection. To achieve it. Why can’t I have it. Harder. More weight. More repetitions. Please.
i hate going to the gym. i would much rather go to a yoga studio or run on the beach, or go to the dog park for more fun. the idea of sweating infront of a bunch of random people stuck in a large room with mirros is not my idea of getting fit, getting healthy and working on a better self. do yoga! get out in the sun, we have an outdoors for a reason.
The gym is where I had the most fun as a child. I always wanted to go there during school, and I never got bored. We would play with a parachute sometimes, and all the kids loved it. Sometimes, our gym teacher would allow us to run underneath of the parachute, and the ones who got to the other side were considered the coolest kids of the day
i would love to go to the gym. i am very unmotivated. i don’t even hate my body 100% of the time. just when i’m putting on pants or a tight shirt. and dudes don’t hate it either. but i should probably go just to be healthy, right? because i had four slices of pizza and two fattttening cookies for dinner, so. going to die sooner than later. the gym is probably a good idea. oh well.
I don’t go to the gym because i don’t want to run on the spot with lots of other fat sweaty people breathing in their exhalations when I could be outside running from one place to another with lovely wind in my hair.
Gym. The class in which those who were unworthy were weeded out based on primal standards. The kid with the glasses was hit in the face with the cruel dodgeball. The kid who couldn’t climb the rope was teased. Gym was where the strong thrived, and those weakened by society were punished.