For many college students, going to the gym is a vital aspect of their everyday routines. Whether you’re trying to sculpt your guns like Ron Burgundy or simply working on your fitness like Fergie, a trip to the gym should offer a break from your workload, a chance to shed some unwanted calories from the night before and a time to ball so hard before you go out and ball so hard.

But at this university, a trip to the gym can be the ultimate sketch festival. It’s a judgment zone, awkward staring contest and war of the egos all rolled into one sweat-laden experience. Chest and triceps day? Oh, if it were only that simple.

Wander about the weight room and you’ll come across some characters. There are the territorial ones — you know the type — meatheads who glance at your bench before you even begin your set: “Yo, why are you within seven meters of the bench that I was totally going to use in 45 seconds? I was totally gonna use that. What were you thinking, punk?” Well, no one really says punk anymore, but you get it.

And have you encountered the grunters? Time to bench press and let the entire rec center know about it. From start to finish of their one, prolonged rep, it sounds like a pack of gorillas decided to wax their legs. I’m joshing. I love the grunts. They totally get me psyched. But seriously, are we primates or are you lifting a bar over your chest? Either way, go slug another protein shake, bro.

Then there are the regulars — the eldersmen of the gym, who are so old they were working out since the days of Hercules. Always a sight for sore eyes: the sweaters — not the type that you wear in the winter but those people who look like they just lost a game of Marco Polo … at the leg extension machine. And of course, there’s everybody’s favorite, the iPod fidgeters — those who spend as much time finding just the right tune to pump them up as they do pumping iron, am I right?

With this cast of outcasts, it only makes matters worse when you add the mirrored walls to the equation. Now you’re practically asking for trouble. It’s an invitation to stare. Between the beefcakes who manage to wear as little clothing to cover as little skin as humanly possible and Aunt Sally, who continues to rock her teal and gold 1980s jogging suit with the matching headband and always-popular Walkman — where else are you going to find a twosome of that magnitude?

Fortunately for us, the mirror allows us to avoid direct eye contact with these subjects. A quick glance, followed by a second turn-around and there’s the dose of humor you need everyday … especially if you happen to eye a lifter mid-flex or Aunt Sally when “Straight Up” comes up on the cassette tape.

There are also the adverse moments. Remember that time you and Hulk Hogan both went after the 45-pound dumbbells? That was a lose-lose situation. Or when you see an acquaintance — someone you’ve met once or twice, is good friends with your friend, hung out at their place, don’t remember their name, but kind of locked eyes — do you have to say hi? And my personal nightmare: when you want to approach a girl. There’s never a right way. You’re sweaty and you stink. She’s trying to finish her workout, not start a new one. The timing just isn’t right.

Despite its awkward moments and social setbacks, the gym is a rite of passage, especially at this university. They say whatever doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. That may not be necessarily true, but there’s plenty of fun (and I guess health benefits) from attending the gym.

Sam Spiegelman is a senior journalism major. He can be reached at spiegelman@umdbk.com.