Who wears lipstick to the gym?

Went to the gym today. I went, as I always do, in workout attire; some black stretch pants and a t-shirt (this is essentially my uniform for life.  Black pants, U of R shirt).  My hair was tied in a knot and since I was going to be working out and soon to be drenched like a sweaty beast, I didn't see the need to touch up my left over make-up before I went.  After all, I'm going to the gym to workout, not to make a fashion statement (That's what the rest of my life is for.  I'm SUPER stylish----please take note of the sarcasm).  And I assume that everyone who is going to the gym has the same mindset.  Couldn't be more wrong. 

I've gathered from my observations, made during hours spent walking my way to nowhere on the treadmill, that there are three types of people who frequent the gym.  Each group has it's own look, style and characteristics, much like the cliques found in a high school quad.  I fall into group one.  We're the fatties who have found our way into the gym, perhaps by mistake (those strip mall doors all look alike....mirrored so you can't see what's inside. You mean this isn't the frozen yogurt place?) but now that we're here, we are committed to working hard and getting healthy.  We're the ones who are hanging off of the elliptical, red faced and sweaty, appearing to be seconds from a heart attack.  We don't have the latest workout gear or the fancy shoes, but we're there....slightly intimidated my the crazy contraptions some call weight machines, but we're there nonetheless. 

Group two is made up of former members of group one.  These are the people who have worked hard and it shows.  They are toned, running with ease and getting in a great workout.  Their clothes are legitimate workout attire, not just some old cut off sweats, and they have shoes that keep them from pronating.  They are friendly, helpful and I am inspired by their work ethic.  You can tell that it's hard work, but oh so worth the effort.  I like these people.  They are who I aspire to be. 

Then we come to group three.  Ahh, group three.  You know them.  Hopefully  you AREN'T them.  Group three are the size zero girls with the watermelon breasts (oops, you mean my shoes don't match?) and the fake tans, who you can tell have obviously gone to great pains to prepare themselves for their 'workout'.  They've showered, carefully selected an adorable outfit and spent far too long on their hair and makeup than anyone should who's destination is a gym.  Group three are the huge, greasy dudes in the free weight section who are yelling at each other to get in 'one more baby....one more!' They're the ones who must rub up against the machines when their backs itch because they can't get their morbidly over sized arms to bend far enough to reach the spot (it's very reminiscent of the gorillas on the Discovery channel.  Maybe I'll put down my People magazine and watch these guys for a while).  Group three doesn't actually do much working out at the gym.  There is a lot of walking back and forth between the machines and using of the mirrors to check themselves out from all angles.  Group three pisses me off.  They are who I hope to fall on after I clutch my chest and go flying off of the treadmill.