If you’ve ever known anyone who’s gone to the University of Virginia, then you know they have a particular way about things. While you probably referred to your school campus as, well, a campus, they refer to it as the Grounds. And while you probably referred to first-year students as freshmen, they refer to them as first-years. It’s all very distinguished and obnoxious, but hey, it’s tradition, so let’s not make waves, OK? Otherwise you might hear from the likes of columnist Abbi Sigler of The Daily Cavalier, who has an opinion or two on the proper way to do things. For instance, when it comes to exercising, a guy should refrain from walking on the treadmill—because it makes you look like a girl:
There’s hardly anything more disappointing than spotting a hot guy at the gym, only to realize he’s doing some girly workout. I’m far from a fitness expert, but as a casual gym-goer, here are my observations on where guys belong.
Running on the treadmill is gender-neutral—for all you freaks who actually enjoy running. Walking on the treadmill is for girls. The only time it’s acceptable for men to walk on the treadmill is to warm up or cool down after or before a run. That’s it. I don’t care if you’re power-walking uphill; it’s not OK if you’re a dude.
What’s a better alternative, Abbi?
Guys, … man up and run around Grounds.
Rrrrh! Men at UVA don’t walk on treadmills. And they don’t run on campus. They run on the freaking Grounds, with a capital G!
Abbi also shares her insights on how guys should tackle other fitness options, including the elliptical (“Men should not be on the elliptical … If you’re using an injury as an excuse, you better have on a brace of some sort. Otherwise, I, along with all the other girls on ellipticals, am judging you—harshly”); the stair stepper (“It’s the only cardio equipment more feminine than the elliptical … If I do see a guy on the stair stepper, I’m simultaneously judging him and checking out his glutes. My judgment will be lessened if it’s paying off. Even so, guys on the stair stepper are never OK”); and the hip-abduction and -reduction machines (“Why is it so necessary that you tone your thighs? It’s because you wanted to look great in your swimsuit at Beach Week, right? Or because your favorite sundress was feeling a little too tight there? I didn’t think so. You don’t belong on those machines. Stay off them”).
Got all that, fellas? If you’re able to abide by all these parameters, maybe Abbi will go with you to Foxfield. Provided, of course, you’re not some lowly first-year. In that case she will judge you—harshly.
Oh, and what happens when a girl starts doing “manly” workouts? “I give her props,” Abbi says.