What’s In My Gym Bag

Besides the handcuffs and chloroform, of course.

I thought you might want to see what’s in my gym bag, partly because it is huge and I feel as though I need to justify my excessive use of bag space by showing you all the exceedingly important things I tote around with me, but also because it’s fun! Let’s compare gym bags! Yaaaaay! Apologies in advance for my awful photos taken with my awful camera. You would never know it, but I actually did take Advanced Photography in high school. I swear it.

This is what my bag looks like:


I didn’t buy it for the express purpose of bringing it to the gym. In fact, I think my mom bought it. At Land’s End. When I was about five years old.

I found it in my basement, looked deep into its eyes, and told it, “I’m gonna put my sweaty socks in you.” And we’ve been inseparable ever since.


If I were restricted to one single item to bring to the gym, it would be this notebook. My best friend got it for me for Christmas because she knows I love elephants, and it’s almost used up by now. It’s where I keep track of my workouts. I feel like a total fool carrying it around with me, but it’s worth it to be able to see my progress. I’ll probably do a more in-depth post on workout logs in the future.


I got these lifting gloves at Walmart. I think they were $8.99. Such a steal, and they are about 6 months old and still work like new. I use them on back days (and sometimes chest days) to protect my hands. I used to get really nasty calluses on my hands that hurt a lot and would split and bleed. The gloves protect my precious little toddler hands from the rough metal bars. I also think the fabric surface helps me grip better than just bare skin because they absorb my hand sweat (ew). They are pretty comfortable and I highly recommend picking yourself up a pair.


In that same vein, these are my lifting straps. You wrap one end around your wrists and the other end around the bar, and it transfers some of the weight to your arms rather than your hands. They’re for two kinds of people: 1) the kind who are lifting extremely heavy weight, or 2) the kind like me, who have the grip strength of a newborn. These aren’t particularly good ones. They get the job done, but you spend an hour trying to get them wrapped around the bar while they’re attached to you. If anything, it’s actually harder than it sounds. If I cared enough or had the money, I would get myself a really nice pair, but… you know.


This is my iPod and the armband I put it in when I work out. I actually hate this armband. (You can’t see it, but the brand is Tune Belt.) The plastic covering over the screen is nice for protecting it, but you can’t actually USE THE IPOD while it is in there because the plastic prevent you from making contact with the touch screen. But it is comfortable enough and I simply cannot lift without my tunes, so I deal.


My water bottle/blender bottle. I use it for water during my workout, then for whey protein afterwards. I love this thing. I got it at Target for like, thirteen bucks. (That’s me, SuperShopper.) The little steel wire thingy inside mixes up my protein, and it never leaks out the top. Plus it has a little measurement scale on the side so I know how much water or protein to put in. And the loop on top is perfect for hooking it on my keyring if I have nowhere else to put it.


Shower caddy and towel. Self-explanatory. Showering at the gym is nasty, but I have no real choice.


I always bring a magazine because even five minutes on the elliptical without reading material bores me to tears. Some people are content to watch the TVs, and those people are probably smarter than me, because trying to read something that’s a foot away from your face while you are bobbing up and down is nauseating. But I will become smarter than those people by reading about current events! Huzzah!


Gum, deodorant, cell phone, chapstick. The four things I would never, under any circumstances including fire or ice cream man’s approach, leave the house without. And don’t you dare laugh at my prehistoric Dumbphone.


My sneakers are old as fuck. Literally, however old fuck is, my sneakers are at least that old. They are falling apart in more places than they are holding together. They provide no arch support whatsoever. And if you never listen to another damn thing I say, listen to this: it doesn’t matter. Shoes that support your arches actually weaken them. It would be like if you started sitting in a wheelchair round the clock even if you weren’t disabled – eventually, your leg muscles would atrophy. Sneakers are the same way. Lose the arch support, and your arches will make up for it by supporting themselves, just like 0% of 2012 college graduates. I love my tragic sneakers and I have never, ever gotten a foot injury.

So that’s all my shit. I thought about showing you what’s in my actual purse, but it would take too long to photograph because I tend to carry my entire house around with me. Also, I have a giant and very inappropriate bag of sample-sized lubes in there right now. Guess what next week’s post is going to be about! Stay tuned!


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