I've been attending my local gym since last October, and I think I'm finally getting the hang of it: turn up, do stuff, do more stuff, realise I can't do any more stuff without keeling over, shower, leave.

Of course, one needs to keep entertained during these periods of stuff-doing, and if the TVs are broke, people watching is the only option available. Unfortunately, there are only four kinds of people who go to the gym, so you can't create a game of bingo out of it. Still, for the taxonomists out there, here is an outline of the four major species of gym goers:

• The Reluctant: These poor souls aren't working out for the fun of it. They're here because their doctor told them it was either this, or death. You can spot them by their larger-than-larger-than-average bodymass, and the pained expression on their red faces. But don't mock them, they're making an effort, bless 'em.
• The New Lifestylers: This is the noble group to which I am proud to belong. Once out of shape and quite probably overweight, we figured it was time to do something about it (or risk becoming The Reluctant). So here we are, out of breath, out of shape and still overweight, but burning enough calories that we don't feel guilty about having dessert.
• The Professional: No matter what time of day, rain or shine, this guy is in the gym. Always lifting more weight than logical, or running at a rate that would reduce you to a quivering mass after mere seconds. They're decent people, though, and usually know pretty much everyone...despite having the scary huge muscles that push the veins out on their arms in that way that makes any self respecting couch potato cringe.
• The Poser: You never see this guy working out. He lives to swagger around the changing rooms, bollock naked. He has a washboard stomach and a massive cock and wants everyone to know.

I can't speak for female changing room habits, but I'm sure there's an equivalent of The Poser in there. Scientific rigour is an important virtue, but not worth risking a court appearance.