So….there’s this asshole at the gym I frequent. I can’t avoid him. If I’m there, he’s there. If I’m working chest that day, so is he. I can’t escape the guy.
Apparently, he’s always in a good mood….always smiling, always willing to help out if someone needs a spot. He pretty much keeps to himself and rarely speaks, kinda be-bopping around like an idiot to the music playing through his earbuds. Sometimes he’s playing drum solos on his thighs as he mouths the words to the song that’s pouring into his head. I mean…he seems like a nice enough guy, right? Everyone seems to simply love the guy.
But, for some reason I have this deeply seeded disdain for him. When I look at him, I feel this sense of darkness emanate from the depths of my being. I know….KNOW in my heart….that this guy has hurt innocent people. I know that at times he’s mean, arrogant, selfish, heartless and cruel. I know that somewhere inside him there’s a prick that has a cold and undeniable violent streak in him. If you look him in the eyes, there’s no doubt about that.
I find myself wanting to hurt him. Not just cause him pain, but to abuse him….to punish him for the evil that apparently only I can see within him. I know hatred is a weakness…it’s an emotion that distracts you from logic. But…Some days the hatred I feel for him burns so hot inside me that I fear the world can see that weakness within me.
Truth be told though; his presence is the sole motivating factor for me most days. I have to be stronger than that guy…mentally, physically and emotionally. I have to be smarter than him. I have to be tougher than him. I have to be more kind and caring than he could ever muster. I have to be a better person than he could ever hope to be. My disdain for him has become the driving force that pushes me to show up every day…to add a few more pounds to the bar or push out a few more reps than I intended.
Being better than that asshole has become a mission that leaves me sweat soaked and trembling at the end of what should’ve been a pretty routine workout. The loathing I have for this guy pushes me beyond my limits and leaves me a tortured and wrecked shell of myself at the end of my workouts, requiring a lengthy recovery period afterwards…not merely for my body, but for my mind and my soul as well.
Damn the mirrors in that gym.