Muscle mouths

Ewww, dirty bird. Not like that.

No, actually, that’s what comes to mind when I think about the time I’ve spent these past two days (Wednesday and Thursday) at 24 Hour Fitness. I’ve had fitness and slimming down in the back of my thoughts for the past year or so, and now that my new job pays me enough to actually consider joining a health club/fitness center, I’m putting my feelers out.

Now, don’t get me wrong – I am no gym rat or aficionado. I have been wrestling with whether or not I want to join such a facility for literally the past year. The spendthrift in me has resisted, though, one, because I was simply not making enough money, and two, because I had so many other options I had not tried yet – walking up and down my hill, jogging, swimming, rollerblading. Now, I’m at a point where I’ve tried all those things and failed to make them a habit. Now, I’m thinking (backwards maybe, but work with me here) if I actually pay for it, I might actually make an effort to stick with it.

So I’ve thought about it, done research and decided, I’ll skip Bally’s (a gym I’ve already had a horrific experience with, even though I’ve never belonged to a gym before) and do the 10-day trial at 24 Hour Fitness, which has a massive new Sport Club within walking distance of work.

First off, knowing that I would have to spend at least an hour going through the obligatory sales spiel, I opted to just go in Wednesday, turn in the coupon, then make my way back to work. It was essentially what I expected – “Tomorrow’s our close-out day, we don’t want you to pay retail prices!” “All our deals end tomorrow!” “If you wait until the end of November or December or January, you’ll pay full price, because that’s when it gets cold/everyone’s making New Year’s Resolutions!” Eck. I was like a punching bag, trying to absorb these sales assaults while maintaining my composure. I think the only thing that helped me maintain was the knowledge that I am unequivocally not allowed to commit to anything without a thorough look-over from Trinity.

Thursday, I honestly thought I was promised an introductory personal trainer session. The guy who was supposed to work with me even admonished me – “make sure you come in workout clothes!” Instead, it was an hour-and-10-minutes-long goal-assessment session, with a hard-sell thrown in there to purchase a personal trainer package. The dude even had the audacity to recommend the 30-session package that rounded out to $1,500.

Sucka, if I pay $1,500, you better throw in a flat-screen TV for my living room, too.

So how much time did I actually spend exercising on Thursday? Ten minutes. Yes, one-zero, 10 minutes, and it was already time to go shower and get to work. After the personal trainer realized I wasn’t hooking, after Austin, my consultant, realized I wasn’t hooking, they let me loose – and didn’t even bother to point me anywhere, or give me an approximate idea of where anything was. Keep in mind, they knew I’d never been a member of a health club before, so they didn’t even tell me where the locker room was – I had to ask – or if I needed a lock – I had to just hope for the best – or what was even on the second floor. Thanks guys.

To be honest, there were some good things I got out of the goal-assessment session – I learned my actual weight – it was lower than I expected, woohoo! – what my BMI was, what I should aim for for permanent weight loss, how to strengthen certain muscles so I don’t get sore after working 8 hours at a computer.

But honestly – I got more exercise walking to and from the place.