Hold the phones people – I joined a gym. And I plan on going there … soon. But I really need to ease into this whole membership thing because, somehow, I’ve made it 33 years without ever once committing to a fitness-based establishment (though I did so many free “trial memberships” around town that I think they’ve likely all got posters with my photo on them saying “Don’t give this woman 1 free week. She’ll never come back after that”). Actually, I did have a membership to a Bikram yoga studio that I let expire last year, but that was more of a Zen experience than the traditional grunting, growling, groaning intense weight lifting sessions found at a “gym." Not that I’ll be doing anything of the sort, mind you, but Hulk Hogan is.
And why does what Hulk Hogan is doing make any difference? Because he works out at my gym (or he was earlier this week when GAR was there anyway). Actually, many of the old pro wrestlers from our youth live near me (or so it would seem from the shared restaurants we seem to always frequent) and so it got me wondering if they all work out at my gym. And, well, that’s a bit intimidating.
Not that I’m not fit (well, actually, I’m not). Okay, how about – it’s not like I haven’t been fit before. I am (err… was) a runner after all. But I’m no Hulkamaniac. And I have no idea what the Rock's got cooking. But I have seen his muscles so I do have a rather good idea of what they’re lifting … and it’s slightly more than the 20 pounds I’m straining with on the circuit. Nonetheless I gotta do it. The term “muffin top” made it into the Oxford Dictionary this year and I don’t want my photo to run alongside it. Also, swimsuit season is coming up. Correction: It’s Florida. So, yeah, summer (and thus swimsuit season) is already here. And we’re getting our pool resurfaced this month. People are going to want to swim in it. And they’ll expect me to swim in it too (or least lounge casually next to it wearing something that exposes some amount of flesh).
And then there’s that whole wedding thing. People generally want to look skinny in photos and whatnot (myself included). I keep hearing people mention “Bridal Boot Camp” and I have no idea whether this is an actual, regimented workout system or just a phrase people use when they want to get fit for their big day. But, in either case, I need to put myself on my own form of Bridal Boot Camp and kick it into high gear. And GAR too. I’ve noticed that on each visit to the gym he makes about 20-30 trips to the drinking fountain. While a simple water bottle would correct this dehydration problem he seems to have, I’m guessing he might have other motives for taking so many little breaks throughout his workouts. We’re never going to attain a pro-wrestling physique if we don’t kick it up a notch. That’s why from now on it’s nothing but romantic dates on the treadmills for us. Heck, our gym even has a cardio theater where you can watch movies in a surround sound, high def, movie theater-like atmosphere while you work out. That counts as movie night, right?
When we joined this fitness establishment last week, the sleazy sales guy (and why must they all be so sleazy? “I can only give you this special offer today” was the line fed to us on more than one occasion, as was the phase “I’ll have to check with my manager to see if I can do that for you,” despite the fact we saw him walk away and talk to no one before coming back to us with an answer), gave us a list of celebrities who belong to the gym (not our branch necessarily, mind you, but they are members at ONE of the gyms in this humongous chain). While I’m sure he thought this would be a big selling point for us (oh yes, Charlie Sheen is a member. I’m sure that working out there means I’m also winning … or at least I’ll have some decent access to tiger blood), it really just makes me feel like I need to dress to impress when I go there (and I certainly wouldn’t want to get all sweaty in front of the A-listers). Nonetheless, Hulk Hogan and Charlie Sheen aside, I have heard that Justin Timberlake has been spotted working out at this very location (5 years ago, but still…) and I’ve got to bring sexy back quick in case he ends up at the elliptical next to me. That’s perhaps the best motivation for Bridal Boot Camp I can think of.
Fine. I’ll give that personal trainer from Belarus a call. Add it to my calendar for next week. Because, other than limiting myself to a light jog so that I can still keep my paparazzi-like camera on the ready should Justin Bieber stroll in, I don’t know where else to begin. Until then, at least my little keychain gym membership cards make me look like a fitness buff!