On college campuses, with calorie-laden dining hall food all around us and the guilt from a post-party pizza binge hanging over our head every weekend morning, exercise becomes a religion. We make the long pilgrimage to our campus gyms several times a week, dressed in our ritualistic workout gear and armed with our fitness-magazine bibles, to pray to the Elliptical God until, sweaty and exhausted, we leave finally purged of last night’s Domino’s sins. But while the church of Ellipticism accepts members of any age, size, background or fitness level, like any religion, it must come with a set of rules—a code of sweatiquette, if you will. So like Moses on Mount Sinai, Her Campus is here with the ten commandments of college gyms—honor them or face eternal judgment from your fitness-worshipping peers!
1. Thou shalt have no other friends sign you up for a machine.
We all have that one totally insane friend who gets up every day to work out at 7 am—when the gym is totally empty and the afternoon’s sign-up sheet is as white as untrodden snow. That doesn’t mean you can use her to snag you a coveted 4 PM elliptical spot by writing your name down 8 hours in advance. Pre-reservation is strictly against the Ellipticist code of conduct—and don’t think you’ll get away with it either. The powers-that-be (the student gym employees, duh) watch the sign-up sheets like a hawk, and when they see a collegiette™ write a friend’s name down with her own, they swoop down with the ultimate weapon of punishment—Wite-out. Don’t be surprised when, after asking your friend to sign you up in advance, your name’s overwritten by the same Wendi-with-an-I who steals your elliptical every other day. You deserved it for trying to cheat the system!
2. Thou shalt not wear on thee any too-tight clothing.
The gym is a house of worship, dedicated to only one purpose—acts of prayer to the Elliptical God—and nothing, including attire, should distract from that purpose. I’m sure you think you look great in your hot pink Nike crop-top and spandex booty shorts, but the rest of us are feeling pretty disgusting in our five-year old Soffees and stained Hanes undershirts. We don’t need to feel nauseous on top of it, watching your junk hang out all over the place on the machine in front of us. And we certainly don’t want any unwanted attention from the boys on the weight machines leering in our direction for a glimpse down your too-tight sports bra. While our workouts make us look great when we run into last Friday’s hookup at a party, we certainly don’t want him noticing us while we’re huffing and puffing on the treadmill, our faces more beet-red than beauty queen. Separate church and frat-boy bait, and we can all worship in peace.
3. Thou shalt not take the name of another on the sign-up sheet.
We all know who you are, Melissa. You dot your i’s with hearts, your M’s end in a giant curlicue flourish, and your letters are three times normal size. So don’t think no one will know when you write your name down for an elliptical from 5-5:30, and then write “Melanie” for the same machine from 5:30-6. It’s the same letters, sweetheart. Taking a false name on the signup sheet to try and cheat the time limit is a certified Ellipticist felony, one punishable by double Wite-outing and a kicking-off by a gym official. And there’s no getting out of it—what are you going to say, that you changed your name sometime in the last 30 minutes? Get off the machine and sign up for another one like everyone else, or face an eternal diagnosis of Exercise Schizophrenia.
4. Thou shalt remember the little white towel and keep the machine clean.
And don’t forget the deodorant, either. Elliptical worship is a frenzied process, bound to produce perspiration, but keep it in check, girl. Those towels are provided free for a reason—and no, not so you can “challenge yourself” by covering up the numbers on the dashboard. They’re for keeping the sweat on your face from hitting the machine. The elliptical is, after all, a sacred object, and must be preserved for cultural and historical purposes; water damage can alter its magic abilities for future worshippers. So wipe your face often, and don’t forget to clean the machine after you get off—no, NOT with the white towel, with a Purell wipe or with a paper towel and cleaning solution. No religion can function without the good works of its constituents…the Elliptical God will pay back your charitable deed in turn.
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5. Thou shalt honor the magazine rack and the TV.
Your gym is kind enough to provide you with literary and visual guides to lead you through your worship—magazines and TV, that is. But don’t forget, they’re not just for you (unless your machines have private attached TV’s, in which case I’d like to transfer to your school, please). We know you’re running too furiously to calmly enjoy the Self in front of you, but don’t rip the pages while you flip through. Destroying public literary property of the gym is a criminal offense (these are the sacred words of the fitness gods, after all), and your violence taints the next worshipper’s experience at the Elliptical. When you put the magazines back, no matter how euphoric your post-workout high may be, don’t forget to slide them in the slots neatly—nothing angers the fitness deities on Mount Olympics like having their literature stuffed upside down, rolled up, half-in-half-out so they fall apart for the next reader. And same goes for the TV—respect the worshippers around you. You may have some sort of masochistic urge to watch Top Chef: Just Desserts while you work out, but the rest of us feel better about ourselves while watching The Biggest Loser, so suck it up and turn up your iPod music while we keep our eyes glued above the yellow line.
6. Thou shalt not fart.
I know you think the machines are so loud that no one will notice, but the Elliptical God spares no one. Everyone around you WILL notice, and they will resent you for the next two minutes. Keep such base bodily functions away from the holy aerobic altarpiece, and save it for the bathroom post-workout. The gym already smells like sweat, BO, and dirty socks—adding to the stench with an unwanted personal contribution is a capital breach of Ellipticist sweatiquette. Break this fundamental rule and endure dirty looks from your neighbors for the rest of your workout. Instead, just clench your butt together and hold it—Ellipticism is all about discipline, after all, and the people behind you will be surprised at how great your butt looks!
7. Thou shalt not commit a Sammi.
Remember when Sammi went to the gym with Ronnie on Jersey Shore. She showed up in full makeup, hair straightened, nails done, Blackberry in hand…and followed Ronnie around the entire time. She sat on his machines, whining loudly; she sat on OTHER machines, blocking lifters from using them for their true purpose; she walked at level 2 on a treadmill while shooting him suspicious looks and texting incessantly. In short, she committed a Sammi—abusing the gym’s purposes. Using the gym as an outpost of your everyday life, a place for conversation, guy-scoping, texting, or proclaiming your “done-ness” with your boyfriend, disrupts its integrity as a holy place of worship. The gym is a sanctuary, an escape from the trials and tribulations of college life, and anyone bringing in the outside world makes a proper prayer session completely impossible. Drop the Blackberry, stop talking about formal dates during your workout, and keep your eyes off the hottie from last weekend. Ellipticism requires full physical and mental dedication, and a Sammi is punishable by a stern “no texting” admonishment from a gym official—and permanent ejection from the Jersey Shore house, of course.
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8. Thou shalt not steal someone else’s machine.
This is the ultimate workout offense, worse than any other. Ellipticists pride themselves on their honesty and initiative in writing their names down on the sign-up sheet, and, especially in the afternoon and early evening, those half-hour spots are coveted and hard-earned periods of fitness prayer. Ruining someone else’s gym session by jumping on the machine they signed up for disrupts the entire order of the gym and goes against everything Ellipticism stands for. Sign up for a different machine or wait until a slot opens up—no way around it. This class-A treason, unlike other Ellipticist commandments, merits corporeal punishment—don’t be surprised when the true owner of your elliptical taps you on the arm angrily and says, “I actually signed up for this machine.” Step down immediately and all will be forgiven—the Elliptical God is a kind and rewarding deity (why else would he make your legs look so good?), and he will spare you if you surrender with grace.
9. Thou shalt not bear false witness about the time limit.
30 minutes is 30 minutes—not 45, not 39, not even 33. So when the next girl comes over to your machine at 5:30, tapping her foot and waiting for you to get off, don’t flash her your index finger and mouth “one minute” over your blasting Lady Gaga. You both know you really mean five. And two minutes really means seven. The time limit is there for a reason—so that every possible worshipper can pay homage to their tireless mechanical god each day, without any one taking more time than the rest. You may be more dedicated to Ellipticism than some others, you may even be able to chug along for an hour at a time, but that doesn’t mean you can stay on the machine all day long. Everyone deserves a chance to sweat off their dining-hall sins—if you insist on a mega-workout, go appeal to the sign-up sheets for a chance to worship at another machine—or do a half hour of abs and come back. A true Ellipticist knows no workout is complete without a prayer to the god Abdominus, after all.
10. Thou shalt not hover.
You don’t realize you’re doing it. It’s 3:52, your workout’s at 4:00…and you start to creep. Feeling the magnetic pull of the elliptical altar, your sneakers slowly drag closer and closer to the machine until you’re right behind it, watching the girl in front of you finish her workout. She notices your presence, her concentration is thrown…and her workout is shot. She can no longer give her full attention to the Elliptical God, but instead must think of you, hovering behind her, waiting for the machine before your turn. She starts to fear your arm-tap, the ultimate punishment in Ellipticist law, but it’s too early. Eventually she gets nervous and jumps off, cutting her worship session short and giving you undeserved extra time. Just like staying on a machine too long, hovering at a machine before your turn throws off the gym’s order and gives you an unfair advantage with the Elliptical God. Hovering is an even worse offense, though, because it also sabotages the worship of the girl before you, putting you in the bad graces of both your predecessor and the fitness gods. And if you dare commit an arm tap before the warranted hour, prepare to fight the rightful owner to the death—and lose—for her coveted last few minutes. Go get a drink of water while you wait instead—you’ll need to stay hydrated for your upcoming session of frenetic fitness prayer.
Follow these ten basic rules of sweatiquette at all times, and you’ll be a card-carrying member of the Church of Ellipticism. Now spread the word, disciples, and impart these words of wisdom on workout worshippers everywhere—you’ll thank me next time you work out in a clean, quiet, and Sammi-free gym, on a sacred and well-kept Elliptical. Now get praying—and remember, don’t forget the deodorant!