The Three Kinds of Workout Dudes

Another idea that came to me on one of my morning runs, an advantage, perhaps depending on your point of view, of not running with an Ipod blaring in my ear. It gives you time to think, and if there is one thing I like to do, next to eating and sleeping, it's thinking. So I'm running down Pinnacle Peak Road, and on the other side rides one of those serious cycling dudes. How do I know he's serious? Because he's got the uniform, that's how, but more on that in a bit. So as a friendly guy and fellow athlete, I give the wave. In return I get nothing but the serious straight ahead look of serious cycling dude, so my wave turned into a bird, not that he noticed it because he was looking straight ahead and he was already by me, but it gave me pleasure, and I like pleasure. It wasn't the first time, that's the usual response I get from serious cycling dude, who I will now refer to simply as SCD. Lest you think it's just a bicycle thing, that they can't take their eyes off the road or their hands off the handlebars, a few minutes later a regular dude on a bike came by on the other side of the road, and he waved or nodded, proving once and for all that you can ride a bike and acknowledge the world at the same time.

So the way I see it there are three kinds of workout dudes, actually there are more but I'm not going to count the hefty dude with the dirty white cutoff tshirt that shows his hairy arms, man boobs, and the cotton shorts that gather unflatteringly up his stubby legs, who shows up at the gym once every six months, gets on the treadmill for 10 minutes with a newspaper and talks on his cell phone, then goes to McDonald's for a post work out meal. I'm limiting my observations to the workout dudes that actually workout.

First up is runner dude (RD). RD is a down to earth guy, the kind of guy who for some odd reason actually enjoys running, an activity that for most people is akin to getting their teeth pulled, or to pulling weeds, which by the way is what I would be doing right now if I wasn' t sitting here writing this. He drives a sedan or compact car with a minimum of 75,000 miles that makes noise so that you can always hear him driving up the road. So RD gets out of bed, puts on a pot of hot water for the tea or starts up the coffee pot, clears some dishes out of the sink so there's space to operate, drinks his morning cafeneited beverage, finds whatever clothes are laying around and most accessible, grabs his trusty and worn pair of $50 running shoes, stretches out, and hits the road. He is a salt of the earth kind of guy, pounding the pavement, breathing audibly, sweating through his shirt, and happy to be alive. He waves at anyone who might pass by, and feels good all day after his morning jaunt.

Next up is the aforementioned serious cycling dude (SCD). SCD is a pompous arse, the kind of guy that drives a Lexus or one of those 300 series BMW's that look just like a Saturn. He works in sales or some other soulless job, kisses backside all day long, then comes home and gives a half-hearted attempt at paying attention to his wife and kids, but is really thinking about how he can get on the 22 year-old blond with fake jugs at the office who flirts unconvincingly and wears clothes two sizes too small for respectable society. He gets up, puts his beans and water through his french press machine, and brews his specialty coffee that he ordered off of some website for $20 a pound. Then he grabs his $100 cycling uniform, which includes the stretchy pants that no grown man should really be getting into unless he's a professional ballet dancer with the body to prove it, his multi-colored shirt that says Zimano or something like it, his funny little pointy shoes and space man helmet. He gets on his $1500 bike and puts on his SCD face and off he goes. He's tired all day long because he stayed up too long last night on the Internet trying to hook up with 22 year-old blonds with fake jugs like the one at his office.

Last but not least is serious gym dude (SGD). SGD is here to pump, you up! He has 28 inch biceps, or whatever size is really ridiculous, I actually have no idea how big biceps are, but 28 inches sounds pretty impressive to me. He has a barrel chest, which is shaved by the way, same as SCD's legs, he can barely afford his rent, but he manages to afford the monthly wax job and the membership at the tanning salon, not to mention the subscription to Muscle Magazine. He drives a big truck, with stickers on the back window that say Skin and Tap Out, and also one of some half naked girl with a halo over her head, and another half naked girl with a devil horn. He gets up and goes to the fridge for his tall can of Red Bull, swigs it down, then makes a protein shake. He doesn't know who the two candidates for president are, but he can tell you all about the different types of proteins. Then he puts on his muscle shirt, the one that shows all the tattoos up and down his arms, oils up, does 10 sets of push ups so he's got a good pump going, and heads out to the gym. He spots some of his fellow SGD's, greets them with whatever he thinks cool black guys do, even though the cool black guys stopped doing it a long time ago as soon as they saw lame white guys doing it, and hits the free weights, which he proceeds to slam down to the ground with authority after his sets, and which he will not re-rack after he is done. After lifting for an inordinate amount of time, hitting all the major body parts, he goes to the cardio room, gets on the treadmill for 10 minutes, then goes to the snack bar for a 1200 calorie muscle milk and raw egg fruit smoothie, or something to that effect. It will increase the size of his biceps, but not as much as it will expand his already expanding midsection, but when you can bench press over 300 pounds you don't worry about things like an expanding midsection.

Well what about women you wonder, what about the different types of workout gals? That will have to wait for another column, but let's just say that women go through different stages, and by the time they reach their 40's they have hit near perfection, and it only gets better from there. I'll leave it at that for now, because I am feeling good, my metabolism is humming along, the knees are holding up, I've just finished my third and final cup of java, and I have avoided pulling weeds for yet another day. What more can you ask for?