I don't mean to be rude, but back off and leave me alone.
I realize you're trying to be friendly and encouraging, but your bright and cheerful, "Good morning, are you ready for another workout?" the second I walk in the door is like nails on a blackboard for me.
I am not a morning person. Yes, it's 10:30 AM, but if it were up to me, I'd still be in bed right now. I'm also a chronic insomniac, so chances are I'm going on five hours or less of sleep right now. I know you don't have insight into my life before I walk through the gym's front door, but you should be able to see by my half-open eyes, my dirty pony-tailed hair, and my total lack of effervescence that no, I'm not particularly ready for another workout. I've only had--at most--two thirds of my morning coffee (sometimes less than that), and I'm dragging along two toddlers, one of whom also is not a morning person and with whom I've probably already had at least one battle this morning. Between the battle, the lack of sleep, and the reduced caffeine intake, I probably have a pounding headache, but I haven't taken any ibuprofen because I need to be aware of how my muscles feel during my workout so I don't accidentally hurt myself.
Add to that the depression I've been fighting, and the fact that I'm here at all is a major accomplishment. So forgive me if I have nothing left to generate phony enthusiasm for another workout.
So why am I here if this is my attitude about the whole thing? Look at me. I'm some not-to-be-published number of pounds overweight, and clearly I'm not here because I've embraced the fitness lifestyle that you have. Simply and starkly put, I'm trying to not die. Workouts don't energize me; they exhaust me. Both the cardio and the strength training are very difficult for me--not challenging in the YOU-GO-GIRL-LOOK-AT-ALL-THE-PROGRESS-YOU'RE-MAKING kind of way; difficult like the oh-please-somebody-kill-me-now-am-i-done-yet kind of way.
So I'm not trying to be rude or a killjoy or anything when I answer your gleeful "Are you ready for another workout?" with a monotonous "Sure, why not." Nor am I looking to dump all my problems on you when I answer your exuberant "Feeling good?" on my way out with an exhausted "I'm hanging in there." I simply don't have the energy left to lie to you or match the excitement you have and that you clearly think I should have as well.
This doesn't mean that you can't be friendly; just understand that I'm not in the place you are. Don't ask me questions in such a way that also conveys the answer you expect to hear. If you aren't really willing to hear the truth, then don't ask me questions at all. A polite "Good morning, have a good workout" would help establish a welcoming presence without my having to lie, feign joy, or otherwise expend precious resources on answering beyond "Good morning, thank you." I'm good with that!
I often tell my kids, "You don't have to like it; you just have to do it." Well I'm here, I'm doing what I need to do, and I'm putting everything I've got into it. But I don't have to like it, and I'm not going to pretend that I do for your sake.