(no subject)
Went for our first time at the gym. First you go for a brief physical where they take your blood pressure and pulse, look at the forms you filled out, then they make the momentous decision whether to let you start to exercise before your doctor's office returns the form. They make a big deal of "failing" you and then they magnanimously allow you a guest pass for the night. I hate being maniuplated and this had all the signs of it. They want you to be grateful to them for the favor. For crying out loud I've got good blood pressure, no heart problems and take no medication. Sheesh.
Then they say you have to make an appointment to see a trainer. Oh, but they're not available until February 27th. Before me lies a huge facility with people everywhere who look like big bugs scuttling across and around the machines. How do you start? What do you do? How do I figure out this frenetic culture?
Jay tries a stretching cage. I look at the diagrams and I know he's not doing it right, and he looks ridiculous. I don't say anything, since I don't know how to do it either. I selfconsciously try the next cage, and I suddenly I can't bear any of it - the hugeness of it, the fact that everyone seems to know what to do and I don't, that people are whizzing by and my feet are stuck to the floor. Everyone is so righteously BUSY except me. I'm 7 again and can't figure out the rules in the game at recess.
In tears, I flee the floor to debate whether to stay or leave altogether. I feel humiliated and frumpy. I search for a personal trainer to talk to who isn't 20 years old and fabulous. Miraculously there is a white-haired woman with a more than ample amount of meat on her bones and a cheery looking face. I tell her this is my first time here, I don't know what to do and, hardest of all to say, I feel old and foolish. I need help.
This is really hard.
Then they say you have to make an appointment to see a trainer. Oh, but they're not available until February 27th. Before me lies a huge facility with people everywhere who look like big bugs scuttling across and around the machines. How do you start? What do you do? How do I figure out this frenetic culture?
Jay tries a stretching cage. I look at the diagrams and I know he's not doing it right, and he looks ridiculous. I don't say anything, since I don't know how to do it either. I selfconsciously try the next cage, and I suddenly I can't bear any of it - the hugeness of it, the fact that everyone seems to know what to do and I don't, that people are whizzing by and my feet are stuck to the floor. Everyone is so righteously BUSY except me. I'm 7 again and can't figure out the rules in the game at recess.
In tears, I flee the floor to debate whether to stay or leave altogether. I feel humiliated and frumpy. I search for a personal trainer to talk to who isn't 20 years old and fabulous. Miraculously there is a white-haired woman with a more than ample amount of meat on her bones and a cheery looking face. I tell her this is my first time here, I don't know what to do and, hardest of all to say, I feel old and foolish. I need help.
This is really hard.