I had the misfortune to stumble across an article titled Don’t Bring Her to the Gym. The overall misogyny was bothersome, but what was more troubling is that at some point maybe two or three years ago I’d had a really nice series of email interactions with the author James Fell.
Unfortunately Mr Fell, in his Onionesque article, thinks that bringing your significant other to the gym has the one benefit of providing her with the opportunity to do something about the hail damage on her ass.
I’m not going to address the obvious points here. I’m not going to note the fact that Fell sounds like a dinosaur when he refers to women as babes. I’m not going to mention the fact that said babes are likely half his age and don’t appreciate the ogling. I’m also not going to dwell on the fact that we women don’t want to compare ourselves to each other, we just want one man to love us so deeply that he thinks we are the most beautiful woman on the planet even when our tummys swell with their babies and our breasts drop from having fed them.
I will say that Fell is right when he says that bringing your significant other to the gym will distract you from your workout, and that training your significant other is probably a bad plan. I also agree that guys need guy time, but equating the gym to church is akin to equating a bench press to insight. Although Fell may have tremendous strength of body, I’d question his strength of character.
In real life significant others do see one another at their worst. Mr. G. often sees me after a tennis match, a day in the garden or just a long hike with the kids. In real life women sweat, it’s okay and it’s not a scary event for a real man.
What Fell doesn’t seem to understand about the hail damage on my ass is that it was proudly acquired by birthing and nurturing two magnificent human beings. Every wrinkle and every seeming imperfection is a testament to my character, and for all of us women whose bodies have grown and shrank, all of us who don’t have the incredible luxury of a photoshopped life we all look great. Our bodies are here to serve a purpose, a strong body is the perfect vehicle for a strong mind.
Here, Mr. Fell, is my hail damaged ass, please feel free to kiss it.
I don’t know about you but I always refer to myself as a babe. Seriously, though, great post. Somebody needs to add a little reality to that guy’s protein shake.
Love. Here’s to hail damaged asses, weathered breasts & stretched out stomachs.
>> we just want one man to love us so deeply that he thinks we are the most beautiful woman on the planet even when our tummys swell with their babies and our breasts drop from having fed them.
Hey babe, you really do have a way with words. What a great read.
YES!
I’m the only one who likes posting long comments? ;)
I disagree that having your SO at the gym with you is distracting to the point of being detrimental. It all comes down to a person’s focus; the presence of an SO shouldn’t derail you from something you’re good at (hmmmm…perhaps he’s not as good at working out as he thinks). I’ve trained SOs and had them train me; I’m pretty self-assured and I like to date other self-assured people, so it’s really not an issue. It comes down to what works in each relationship.
He really comes of as a very insecure person; one who can’t be around women who share the same hobby or interest – after all, how good can he feel about himself if he looks around and realizes that *gasp* WOMEN can work out too!?! Saying that women who are physically exerting themselves are “at their worst” is just really pathetic. At least he’s not afraid to show himself at his leering, chauvinistic, insecure worst by writing this article (at least I hope to the gods that this IS his worst).
That writer is the kind of guy who could replace actual live women with blow up dolls and he’d never know the difference; he’s just got that effect on the ladies.
Amen, sister! :)
Oh motherhood – we are constantly defending the toll it takes on our bodies… and even if we have the time to go to the gym, mothers only get to workout when someone is watching our kids. This week I went to the gym, sat outside the Kid’s Club for 30 minutes, only to give up and head home without a single drop of sweat fallen from my brow. The sitters were tied up in a CPR class and I was tied up with two kids. My rear never knew I had intended on being tied up on the treadmill.
-Amanda Armstrong, Sitter Pals (ironic, yes I know)
LOVE IT! What a misogynistic asshole…first and foremost. Secondly, girl…what hail damage are you talking about? I see no hail damage to your ass:) No matter, I feel sorry for this guy apparently he has not experienced real love, the kind that wakes up in the morning and sees us after a long night up with a vomiting child or sees at our very worst but loves us even more and if he keeps the attitude he has, I doubt he ever will. I pity that chauvinistic pig:) *I don’t know why in my mind, I just turned into Mr.T when I typed that last line.
three words: I. Love. You.
I haven’t found that man. I’m battling the hail. But I don’t go to a gym.
u wanna big dick?