February 2, 2010

• The Gym and I

  
  

  I’ll tell you right now why I don’t like going to the gym. Closed captioning. That’s the reason. When I’m on the treadmill or the stationery bike or the Stairmaster, I, like most of my exercising counterparts, like to pretend I’m at home on my couch watching television. But at the gym we are forced to watch tv with the sound turned off and read the closed captioning. However, I am near-sighted. I am so nearsighted that this feat is not possible. Blur blur blur [music notes]. Blur blur blur [laughter]. This is no way to watch Ellen, and certainly no way to soak in CNN or sports highlights. That is the reason I don’t like going to the gym. Closed captioning.

   

  Also the clothes. The reason I don’t like going to the gym is the clothes. Apparently, according to experts, the appropriate clothing for a workout is stretchy, tight fitting and revealing. The reasons I have read include ease of movement and ability to monitor body alignment. This is counter-intuitive to my motivations for going to the gym in the first place (e.g. hiding my body from sight under baggy, loose-fitting clothing). What kind of reveal will I have if I keep saying “ta-da” every day while exposing my lumpy lady bumps? So, the reason I don’t like going to the gym is closed captioning and the clothing.

   

  Then of course there are the snacks. When I participate in sweat-inducing, rolled-up-sleeves work, I like to think that there are a slab of ribs, some cold beer in cans, and a selection of dips and crackers waiting for me on a table somewhere nearby. A reward for my hard work; the carrot I have been mentally dangling in front of my mule brain to keep me going. Have you seen the snacks at the gym? Water with electrolytes and hi-protein bars. This is not going to keep me pumping. If I was painting your house or moving your couch and you offered me water with electrolytes and a hi-protein bar I might un-paint a wall or somehow find the energy from that energy bar to remove your couch from the premises. So, to recap, the reason I don’t like going to the gym is closed captioning, the clothes, and the snacks.

   

  Oh, and have you heard the music? I don’t consider myself an expert on music, but I do know what I like. I guess I am an expert on what I like. My expert opinion of the music at the gym is that don’t like it. I will go out on a limb and guess that the thumping bass lines and driving club beats are intended to subconsciously become the rhythm of my workout, or to make me feel something like, “Hell yeah! I can do this!” However, what the music at the gym makes me feel is “Who likes this? Is it 1989? Was it public outcry over music at the gym that inspired Steve Jobs to introduce the iPod?” Now, again, the reason I don’t like going to the gym: closed captioning, the clothes, the snacks, and the music.

   

  Music reminds of lighting. I don’t like going to the gym because of the lighting. The lighting in gyms is generally of the fluorescent variety. Unlike everyone else on earth, I look terrible under fluorescent lighting. That was a joke. Nobody looks good under fluorescent lighting. Even thin muscular people look drawn and pale. I tend to look red and blotchy, with defined edges. That’s not really what I am going for. Perhaps the gym is giving us a dose of reality to keep us going. I say no thanks. The reason I don’t like going to the gym is closed captioning, the clothes, the snacks, the music, and the lighting.

   

  Let’s not forget perspective. I don’t like going to the gym because of perspective. I don’t mean perspective like, “Working out is so insignificant when there are people starving right here in our own country.” No, I mean perspective like when you place a quarter next to an object in a photo to illustrate actual size. Once, when I was in Florida, the biggest spider on the planet was resting in my hotel bathtub so I placed a quarter next to it and snapped a picture. Sometimes at the gym I am the spider, and very rarely I am the quarter. When I am the spider I feel vulnerable and defensive and awful. When I am the quarter I feel superior and cocky and awful. So, now, again, the reason I don’t like going to the gym is closed captioning, the clothes, the snacks, the music, the lighting, and perspective.

   

  And ouch! The cost! The reason I don’t like going to the gym is the cost. There is no such thing as a gym where you pay as you go, because you wouldn’t pay and you wouldn’t go. Every single gym in the world can reach into your bank account with its sculpted and flexed arm and withdraw a monthly fee whether you go to the gym or not. I have belonged to at least five gyms over my adult life, and in general have considered the monthly fee similar to an ongoing fine for misdeeds. Or much like some might consider alimony a fair price for freedom, I might consider gym dues a fair price for sloth. However, that said, the reason I don’t like going to the gym is closed captioning, the clothes, the snacks, the music, the lighting, perspective, and the cost.

   

  Lastly, there’s prep time. I don’t like going to the gym because of prep time. If you read cooking magazines you’ll notice next to every recipe the editors provide a prep time, which is the amount of time estimated to prepare the delicious meal. This is fair warning that your Chicken Javier, while mouth-watering, will take two hours out of your life that you will never get back. Personal trainers, gym employees, health magazines and supportive friends offer gym prep times that have no basis in reality. When your trim, rock-hard friend claims she allots an hour for her daily trip to the gym, she is either lying, does not perspire, wears gym clothes all day long (see above regarding this topic) or is time-management-challenged. The finding, changing, driving, parking, actually working out, showering, re-changing, putting-on-of-a-face, self-congratulatory-post-workout-activity all take at least three hours. This is a scientific fact. (Note: data pending.) I will be mouth-watering, but I will be more time-intensive than Chicken Javier. So, finally, I don’t like going to the gym because of closed captioning, the clothes, the snacks, the music, the lighting,  perspective, the cost, and prep time.

   

  I have also been mulling over the reasons I no longer enjoy going out to dance clubs. There was a time when a night flailing on the lighted floor was something I looked forward to all week. After much introspection, I have discovered some parallels that might ring true with others. So, please re-read the above, replacing “gym” with “dance club.” (Note: the following can also be substituted for clarity: MTV/silent movies for Ellen/CNN, martinis/olives for electrolytes/hi-protein bars, strobes/spotlights for flourescents.)

  

      

  (Madame Luke is still alive, kicking, screaming and writing. She would like to mention that she does appreciate the magazines at the gym.
  

  • 12:41 am
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