Once in a blue moon, some girl will strike up a conversation with me at the gym. I don’t wear my wedding ring when I’m at the gym – I’d dent and scratch the hell out of it on the first bar I grabbed, and I grab a lot of bars during my time there. But I don’t look very inviting when I’m working out, and I move around a lot and keep very obviously busy, so it’s rare when anybody I don’t know well tries to talk to me at all. And most girls keep to themselves at the gym anyway. Maybe if a girl’s thinks you’re cute, she’ll try to catch your eye between sets, but she’s not going to come over and overtly hit on you. That would risk rejection, and women don’t take risks. Taking risks is our job.
But once in awhile, some girl will attempt to make casual conversation while trying hard to look uninviting, like she’s just small talking, in case I don’t want to flirt with her. Because talking to strange men at the gym out of the blue about something other than a basic pleasantry, a request for equipment, or a question about his workout is definitely not fishing.
So I started playing with this over the past few months. Seeing what I was doing when and where, how the conversations went. I’m not looking to cheat on my wife with some random chick at the gym. I mean, if I were going to cheat, it wouldn’t be with someone at my gym anyway. I have to go back there six days a week, and if you’re a guy who’s got a reputation for hitting on lots of women at the gym, you’re going to get your membership revoked eventually. And I have shit to do and a limited amount of time to work out. I don’t have the minutes to spare talking about restaurants and football with strangers.
I’ll do an occasional class at the gym once or twice a week, because a man can only do so many squats, and getting some core work, cardio, and functional training in is good to mix things up. But even though classes at gyms are geared toward the lowest common denominator, I still try to make a workout out of it. I run hard, I lift a lot, I push myself. You’d think that being the strongest guy in the room would get more women talking to you after class than a normal workout, right? Not so.
I figured this out accidentally, actually, when some really big dudes were in a class, too. Apparently, lots of women talk to the second or third strongest guy in the room, but kind of make fun of the strongest one. Because when you sprint fast and finish first in every sprint, when you lift a heavier bar than anybody else in the room and do more reps with better form than anyone there, you look like you’re trying hard. Even if you’re not and the workout isn’t that tough for you, you still look like you’re trying hard. And trying hard is unattractive.
First off, if you’re the strongest guy in the room and you’re pushing yourself hard, it looks like you’re showing off. Like you care what others think about you. Because if a woman were doing what you were doing, that would be her motivation. And it’s impossible for a woman to imagine that you might be different than she is, because women completely lack empathy or the ability to place themselves in another’s shoes. So if you’re the strongest guy in the room and you’re pushing hard, women think you’re trying to draw attention to yourself. That’s loser behavior.
Secondly, if you’re the strongest guy in the room and you’re pushing yourself hard, you look weaker. Like you’re trying your hardest, breathing hard, going to exhaustion, instead of smoothly going through the motions like it’s nothing. A guy who’s effortlessly strong is hot. A guy who has to work hard to be strong is a try-hard loser.
Don’t hit on women at the gym – you have shit to do there that’s actually worth your time. But this translates to all areas of your life. It’s not really a novel idea, and it’s been rehashed around here before:
Part of being attractive is always looking like everything is effortless to you. Behind the scenes, you work hard – you work like a fucking fanatic. You tear your body apart at the gym, you eat clean like your body’s the holiest temple on Earth, you schedule sleep hours like you’re a baby, you pour your blood, sweat, and tears into your professional success and your networking, you hone your social game through months and months of embarrassment, you’re always reading, always learning, always growing, always mastering something new. And you never let anybody see you work. Never talk about it, never allude to it. Because if people knew how hard you worked, they’d know that you’re really a loser, trying hard to hide it. Instead, you accomplish the greatest feats you’ve ever accomplished, and when somebody says something to you, you shrug, and act like it’s nothing. Like you do this shit all the time.
Because only losers work. Winning comes naturally to winners.