Spurred on by a traumatic dress-trying-on experience last night, I went to the gym this morning for the first time since…I don’t know…June 7th? I go to SportMax near my office because I get a company discount, and it is very nice by Hungarian standards (it is no Equinox).
The gym opens at 7 AM. I get there at 7 AM. The receptionist gets there at 7:15 AM, and it is easier going through customs in Iran with an Israeli passport than gaining entrance to the gym. Finally, the receptionist and I agree that I am going to “fitness” (versus squash or maybe just hanging out in the locker room), she punches 1,200 keys in her computer, and I am in.
The AM gym-goers consist of three men who are lifting big weights and grunting and me. There are also three very bored personal trainers roaming around the room. I run for a bit but due to the 150% humidity decide to lift weights instead. I lifted a few times a week with the swim team in college, so I believe I am fairly competent using free weights. Plus, I have my experience from “Chisl’d” in Boston.
(For those of you unfamiliar with Chisl’d, it is a sick, sick way to start your Sunday. It is a weight-lifting / aerobics class run by Kristi, the cutest / most intense fitness instructor in Boston, and consists of everything you could never make yourself do on you own. And the class is at 10 AM on Sunday so you arrive when you are half asleep and don’t realize how hungover you are until Kristi is screaming at you to get your knees up during mountain climbers. Whenever anyone asked me how I was doing for the rest of the day after taking the class, I replied, “Chiseled.”)
Today I had six personal trainers. Whenever I picked up a dumbbell, one of the gym rats or personal trainers would come over to and correct me (usually non-verbally due to the language barrier). I couldn’t tell if they were staring at me because I actually have no clue how to lift weights, women don’t lift weights here, or they thought I was in a market for a personal trainer. And I don’t buy that the reason was that I was the only woman in the gym. I wasn’t a woman this morning; I was a gross, sweaty mess due to the aforementioned humidity.
The highlight of the morning was attempting to escape the avid weight lifters by trying out the elliptical-looking machine in the corner. The machine basically forced me to do the breaststroke kick while standing upright. Terrified that someone would come over to help me, I called it a morning, grabbed an altoid (Equinox never offered those!), and headed to the locker room. I think I expended more calories being self conscious than working out.
It’s always interesting in the ‘Pest.
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Mountain climbers, woo-hoo! Never tried them while hung over though, don't imagine I ever will!
ReplyDeleteI also just figured out that your blog's time stamps split the difference between East Coast (-3) and 'Pest (+3) time. Now I won't wonder why you're doing things at odd hours...well, at least not as much!
ReplyDeleteI need to join you at the gym, because I am also having the "OMG" this doesn't fit experience! xxxx
ReplyDeleteI know that machine that makes you do frog kick! If you can believe it, BSC has two of them. I think you're supposd to do some sort of cross-country ski/speed skating motion (pushing out to the side one leg at a time). Mine usually ended up like the frog kick...
ReplyDeleteSomehow I knew you would a. eventually find a gym and b. have this very experience
ReplyDelete