Grin and Bare It

As you may or may not know, I've joined a local gym (ACAC). It's a great place...perhaps the best physical fitness facility I've ever belonged to. And, believe me, I've belonged to some doozies through the years. Unlike most of the places I've joined in the past, the trainers at ACAC seem to really care about the customer.
Most of these fitness centers are so sales oriented that by the time I leave from myh first visit, I've not only signed up for the lifetime supreme membership, but I've also purchased a used car from the sales guy, and have committed to be his next tier down for his Amway business.
Another complaint I have about the trainers in some of the other facilities is that I have a suspicion they worked in concentration camps or, at the very least, marine boot camps, prior to joining the club. They seem to have a sadistic little streak which they love to display when working with fat, out-of-shape guys. I remember one experience where I spent the first part of my first visit to the club gasping for breath as the trainer put me through the paces, and the second half throwing up. Needless to say, I didn't go back, despite the fact I did have the supreme lifetime membership.
Even though I love ACAC, there are a few things I still have some difficulty with. For one, when I'm doing my strength training, I never can remember when I'm supposed to exhale and when I'm supposed to inhale. I hear all the other guys (the manly men) grunting and poofing and I can't figure out when I grunt and when I poof. I try, but it generally comes out as the sound of an anguished animal caught in some kind of a trap in the woods.
Something else that's getting a bit easier, but still gives me a little problem is naked men. I've never been all that comfortable around a bunch of naked guys. It probably goes back to high school when the big guys would take us little guys and dunk our heads in the toilet. Anyway, even to this day, when I see a big naked guy, I wanna run.
There's this modesty thing as well. I believe in wrapping a towel around me as I walk from the locker room to the showers or steam room. A lot of guys don't believe in that. And I'm talking some pretty old guys, too. For some reason, it's just plain difficult for me to ask a naked man how he's doing.
Everytime I step into the communal shower, I'm reminded of an old Seinfeld episode where George let nature take it's course in the communal shower. That show should have gotten some sort of a public service award, because it calls me to my senses when the hot water hits me. The whole time I'm in the shower, Im just hoping all the other guys in the shower saw that episode as well.