Monday, January 10, 2005

Why did I go to the Gym today?

The goal was to drag my lazy body to a group class called TOTAL BODY CONDITIONING. I really think the name says it all. I'm in and outta the gym in 45 minutes (add five for a locker room tinkle on the way out) and my Total Body has been Conditioned in less than an hour. Brilliant! I mean, the class setting is really the way to go. You've got somebody up there with a phenomenal body really encouraging you to "bend those knees" and "lock those wrists" and "breathe!"; but you're not intimidated by said teacher's body because all of your fellow class attendees have bodies like yours. (But really, without some sort of trainer, how many of us just wonder aimlessly through the gym, avoiding eye contact with drooling meat-heads, staring at the equipment like, "What does this one do?", and wondering what we should eat when we leave? I doubt I am alone here.)

So, in a class setting, you're basically an efficient worker-outter.
Unless you show up late and they don't let you in.

In this unfortunate case, the gymee has to fend for herself and try not to fault the subway driver for letting the R train in front of us and thereby slow our entire route, leaving us to stare into the windows of the classroom, unable to avoid the "IF YOU ARE 10 MINUTES LATE, DO NOT ENTER" sign! No, the gymee must funnel that frustration into some sort of motivation.

In my particular instance today, I headed to the Elliptical Machine. Now, I am not a runner. As my friend Cathy once said, "I don't like to run unless someone's chasing me." I agree wholeheartedly with this philosophy, but I've heard that 20 minutes is all you really need to do at a time to get into shape. I climbed up on a machine, entered my weight and age, (all those lovely particulars), and watched music videos on the little TV in front of me. But I didn't have headphones so I was trying to read lips and it's so hard to not keep checking the time! You feel like you've been on there for at least 12 minutes and you look down to see 3:19. Argh! Plus, my machine was rocking and squeaking. If I had a body of steel, I wouldn't mind making such loud and obnoxious noises with each glide, but as I don't, I begin to feel self-conscious. . . like the 83 year old man across from me is thinking, "My Elliptical Machine is skiing so smoothly - she must be quite a heifer!" I put up with it for about 10 minutes when I rememberd the XPress Line and changed gears.


This is something the New York Sports Club has that I LOVE! XPress Line is a 22 minute workout and you go from machine to machine, right down a straight line, and you're in and out in no time. You wonder, "Is this too short to really garner results?" but then you feel sore later and know it's not a scam. A 22 minute workout with a trainer accompanying you along the way, adjusting your seat, adding the weight, coaching and encouraging - it's awesome!

Unless, like today, the only trainer at the XPress Line is a guy they all call "Barry". Is "Barry" his real name? No. But he goes by Barry White because he is a black man with a deep voice. He is not suave. He does not sing, to my knowledge. He is my height or an inch shorter, he is stocky, has a beard, wears thick glasses, but has that very deep voice - hence, Barry White.


The thing with "Barry" is that he only says one thing - ever:

"All day long, all night strong."

Now, as I'm doing leg presses and/or bicep curls, I do not want a trainer standing over me with a clip board saying, "All day long, all night strong." This is not an appropriate gym pep talk, in my humble opinion, no matter if you're a bass, a tenor, or a soprano! And what really gets me is that he eventually expects you to finish the phrase! For example, you're on your 13th or so rep and you're really working the muscles - think you might pass out before making it to your goal of 15 - and then you hear "Barry" say, "All day long. . ."

Hmmm. . . Wouldn't, "Come on, you can do it" be a little more appropriate at this juncture?

Now, if you ignore this and head toward rep 14 with grit in your eye, he will simply repeat the beginning of his classic quip. If, upon hearing said phrase, you decide to ignore him and continue to focus on your workout rather than his verbiage, he will only repeat that first little part again - lingering at the end and raising that low bass up a key or two to kinda show ya where he's going with it. "All day longgggg. . .?"

So today, I missed Total Body Conditioning, did 10 minutes of semi-jogging, and was unable to do XPress Line. In fact, had to use the upstairs locker room cause "Barry" was posted up at XPress Line right in front of the Woman's Restroom! Saying his little iconic slogan to all who passed!

I was basically wasting time. I knew that after Total Body Conditioning was a class called Club Abs. Now, having taken a 15 minute ab class before, I knew that these things should really be called, "Why does it feel like someone keeps punching me in the belly?" I mean, you're really hurtin' after one of these classes.

So, 1:45 finally rolls around and I have my mat and towel down, I'm cocked and ready to go in Child's Pose, breathing deeply. I know in my heart that this is my last chance to make something of this excursion into the city. In these 15 minutes, I needed to work my body into submission. After all, Total Body Conditioning sounded great, but Club Abs sounded like Club Getting to the Point. I mean, the flat tummy is what women everywhere dream of attaining - the prospect of that elusive 6-Pack being the entire reason for my gym membership.

Then the instructor enters. Now, I hear his voice and turn my head to look up at him only to see his gut! A gut?! How can the Club Abs trainer not have visible abs?! I mean, the class isn't called Club Hide and Go Seek Abs!

I can't help but think that maybe Club Abs isn't for me if this guy represents the end result. But then I think, I'm not being fair. He's probably pregnant. After all, it's New York and I've seen a lot of crazy stuff here.

So the first thing he does is turn off the lights and turn on some slow jams. I question his Tori Amos version of Nirvana's "Teen Spirit" as a workout catalyst, but I roll over and prepare for the first of what I'm expecting will be many an excruciating crunch. Now, ol' dude assumes his mat at the front of the class and demonstrates the crunch - we join in - then he shows us an easier version. I stick with the tough one, seeing as how we just got started, and am a little worried that the instructor is already doing the easy one - when he stops completely! Just stops crunching! And starts counting!

"100! 90! You're doing great!"

Okay, he is right beside me and I have terrific peripheral vision EVEN IN THE DARK! He is leaning on his arm, and has one knee cocked up with the other arm just draped over it. Lounging! The man is lounging!

"We're really working now!"

I roll my eyes.

"And 77! Don't give up on me, ladies!"

I nearly choke.

"Try to let the elbows touch the knees, if you can."

If we can? Can you even touch your toes?

"Feel the burn!"

The burn?! I mean, miserable. Of course, when he hits, "8!" he lies back and finishes out the set. What a phony! He then leads us in some obliques and this is where I almost laugh out loud. We are to lift our knees into a 90 degree angle, legs perpendicular to the floor, and take our right arm across to our left side and then vice versa. Okay, sounds fine.

Then as I'm alternating arms across my body I hear, "Throw that baseball ladies! Just toss it! Make sure you're flicking those wrists! It's just like throwing a baseball! Really pitch it!"

WHAT?!?!?!

So I start flicking - really flicking my wrists - and I take my "baseball" and throw it right at his little face every time I cross my arm his way. He, of course, is counting down and sitting up.

"Last inning ladies!"

And here's the thing: any time you go to an abs class or yoga class, you're really working hard so you live for those two little words, "And release." You work and work and hold and clench and breathe - "And release" - and then there's a big collective sigh. Well this guy was releasing all over the place! And he gave us more breaks than he did exercises! Like he got tired watching us!

And get this! As the other women in the class are exiting, they are going over to him thanking him! "You were wonderful." "Great class." "I really felt the burn."

Listen, if anything needs to feel the burn, it's his 1989 inspired windbreaker pants. As it is, however, I left the gym with abs still donned in winter fat and an uncomfortable feeling as I heard a blue-haired woman utter "All night strong?" on my way out the door.

1 comment:

Emily said...

That was hilarious, Alecia! Barry White sounds like he could be George's brother! And just some encouragement...6 packs are totally out of style. (that's what I keep telling myself!) Love you!!