The longest gym relationship I’ve ever had was with a place called “Total Woman Gym and Day Spa.” I’m not shy in admitting that I loved Total Woman. I was comfortable there; it was a good fit. We were together for one year before I left for college, and whenever I went home for the summer, I would fall back into the routine of working out there every day.*
(*Occasionally.)
But things changed after I graduated. I moved to a new city, I had a smaller budget, and while I wouldn’t say that I’d NEVER go back to Total Woman, it was time for me to start playing the field, trying out new gyms, seeing what I liked. So like all desperate people searching for something new, I decided to look online.
Showing up to a new gym with my pre-purchased Groupon was like going on a blind date where I discovered that my match was 98% Russian and 100% void of cleaning supplies. They never gave me an ID card or had me sign any forms; the bodybuilding owner just took a sneaky candid photo of me on my first day there, “for insurance.” I don’t want to explicitly say that he was in the Russian mafia, but he was definitely in the Russian mafia. Plus, the women’s restroom was just a toilet, a card table, and a lone bottle of hairspray hidden behind a red velvet curtain.
So it isn’t surprising that I was wooed away by a large chain workout facility I’ll here refer to as “Gold’s Gym.” (It was Gold’s Gym.) I was coming off a short, cheap gym membership that made me feel bad about myself, and Gold’s was just there, immediately, looking wildly attractive with a bright yellow flyer and a promise to support me in all my fitness needs.
My first night there, I was ushered into a small room with a man I’ll refer to as “Carlos,” because all gym trainers should be, and probably are, named Carlos. Carlos told me he wanted to make me “HUUGE,” pronounced “OOJ,” and insisted that I give up drinking diet coke and eating chocolate more than once per week. “Sure, Carlos,” I agreed, my subtext being, “I will never come back here again.” Carlos behaved like a young Mormon missionary who had just scored his first ever convert to the faith, and with soul-crushing dread, I realized that he was far more invested in this membership than I was. He even invited me over to his apartment to watch HBO/drink his tequila while he was away at work. He was shining with happiness, and I realized that he actually saw a future for us—a future where I was “OOJ” and had really low cholesterol. I felt shitty about inevitably disappointing him, and a voice in the back of my head accused me of being emotionally closed-off and crippled by fear, so I agreed to return to the gym tomorrow. I awkwardly accepted his several high-fives and ventured into the wider gym area to give it the old college try.
It took me .7 seconds to determine that this was not the right gym for me. The bodybuilders were staring at me, wondering who I was and why I didn’t have a barbed wire forearm tattoo. I decided to take their stares as flattery. Like, “YES, boys, I HAVE been on this elliptical for twenty minutes. Resistance level 8. Form an orderly queue!”
I was sure I’d never go back to Gold’s Gym, until three days later, when CARLOS CALLED ME. My phone was on speakerphone, and my sister recorded the whole thing. Here is the ACTUAL transcript:
Me: Hello?
C: This is CARLOS!! From Gold's Gym!!
Me: (nervous laughter)
C: So did the rain keep you from coming to the gym today??
Me: Um… maybe!!
C: Ahh, that's okay, though, I see the rain can be kinda scary, especially for Californians! So I get it. But you better come in tomorrow for our open house!!
Me: Ummm, I don't know. If I have time. I get off late.
C: Our hours are ‘til midnight!! What time do you get off?
Me: (more nervous laughter)
C: Our hours are until midnight! So what time will you be in?
Me: Carlosss!! I don't know if I can commit to this!
C: ANNA!! Yes you can commit to this!! (Such joyful exuberance) You can DOOO IT! I brought you three chocolate kisses today!
Me: Ahh, I was going to get those today??
C: YES!! I brought CHOCOLATE to the GYM for you!!! So what time will you be in tomorrow?
Me: Carlos... umm... maybe… 8-ish?
C: I have you down for 8:30! Can't wait to see you!!
The next day I actually showed up at 8:30, and Carlos WASN’T THERE. It was just me with an old iPod I’d borrowed from a friend, which only contained music by Bon Iver. I tried to work up some Carlos-worthy enthusiasm on the elliptical, but it wasn’t easy with Bon Iver quietly weeping in the background. I thought that I’d been stood up, or that, more likely, Carlos had died while trying to get to me.
Around 9:30, another Gold’s employee informed me that Carlos had arrived, but it was too late. I hated it there, with its bright neon lights and its competitive atmosphere and the total lack of fashion magazines. I pulled up my hood and snuck away without even saying goodbye.
A few days later, Carlos called me again. My heart breaking inside my chest, I explained to him that I couldn’t return to Gold’s Gym, mostly because they didn’t have magazines. Carlos was a model of understanding and compassion: “Anna, I’m so sorry to hear that. But when you change your mind, I want you to know that our door will always be open, and we will ALWAYS be here for you.” I almost cried. Because I knew we weren’t right for each other, but it was nice to know that Gold’s and I could continue to be friends.
I wish I could end this post by telling you that I found a new gym and lived happily ever after. Or I wish I could tell you that I decided I didn’t need a gym—that I’m a strong, independent woman who’s way too focused on her career right now to even think about working out. But the truth is, I’m just like anybody else, navigating my way through life and trying to find the perfect gym to spend my life with. And it can be scary, and it can be discouraging, but all I can do is get back up on that stationary bike and ride.
Don't forget to LIKE Annamal Crackers on Facebook and follow @AnnamalHalligan on Twitter!
(*Occasionally.)
But things changed after I graduated. I moved to a new city, I had a smaller budget, and while I wouldn’t say that I’d NEVER go back to Total Woman, it was time for me to start playing the field, trying out new gyms, seeing what I liked. So like all desperate people searching for something new, I decided to look online.
Showing up to a new gym with my pre-purchased Groupon was like going on a blind date where I discovered that my match was 98% Russian and 100% void of cleaning supplies. They never gave me an ID card or had me sign any forms; the bodybuilding owner just took a sneaky candid photo of me on my first day there, “for insurance.” I don’t want to explicitly say that he was in the Russian mafia, but he was definitely in the Russian mafia. Plus, the women’s restroom was just a toilet, a card table, and a lone bottle of hairspray hidden behind a red velvet curtain.
So it isn’t surprising that I was wooed away by a large chain workout facility I’ll here refer to as “Gold’s Gym.” (It was Gold’s Gym.) I was coming off a short, cheap gym membership that made me feel bad about myself, and Gold’s was just there, immediately, looking wildly attractive with a bright yellow flyer and a promise to support me in all my fitness needs.
My first night there, I was ushered into a small room with a man I’ll refer to as “Carlos,” because all gym trainers should be, and probably are, named Carlos. Carlos told me he wanted to make me “HUUGE,” pronounced “OOJ,” and insisted that I give up drinking diet coke and eating chocolate more than once per week. “Sure, Carlos,” I agreed, my subtext being, “I will never come back here again.” Carlos behaved like a young Mormon missionary who had just scored his first ever convert to the faith, and with soul-crushing dread, I realized that he was far more invested in this membership than I was. He even invited me over to his apartment to watch HBO/drink his tequila while he was away at work. He was shining with happiness, and I realized that he actually saw a future for us—a future where I was “OOJ” and had really low cholesterol. I felt shitty about inevitably disappointing him, and a voice in the back of my head accused me of being emotionally closed-off and crippled by fear, so I agreed to return to the gym tomorrow. I awkwardly accepted his several high-fives and ventured into the wider gym area to give it the old college try.
It took me .7 seconds to determine that this was not the right gym for me. The bodybuilders were staring at me, wondering who I was and why I didn’t have a barbed wire forearm tattoo. I decided to take their stares as flattery. Like, “YES, boys, I HAVE been on this elliptical for twenty minutes. Resistance level 8. Form an orderly queue!”
I was sure I’d never go back to Gold’s Gym, until three days later, when CARLOS CALLED ME. My phone was on speakerphone, and my sister recorded the whole thing. Here is the ACTUAL transcript:
Me: Hello?
C: This is CARLOS!! From Gold's Gym!!
Me: (nervous laughter)
C: So did the rain keep you from coming to the gym today??
Me: Um… maybe!!
C: Ahh, that's okay, though, I see the rain can be kinda scary, especially for Californians! So I get it. But you better come in tomorrow for our open house!!
Me: Ummm, I don't know. If I have time. I get off late.
C: Our hours are ‘til midnight!! What time do you get off?
Me: (more nervous laughter)
C: Our hours are until midnight! So what time will you be in?
Me: Carlosss!! I don't know if I can commit to this!
C: ANNA!! Yes you can commit to this!! (Such joyful exuberance) You can DOOO IT! I brought you three chocolate kisses today!
Me: Ahh, I was going to get those today??
C: YES!! I brought CHOCOLATE to the GYM for you!!! So what time will you be in tomorrow?
Me: Carlos... umm... maybe… 8-ish?
C: I have you down for 8:30! Can't wait to see you!!
The next day I actually showed up at 8:30, and Carlos WASN’T THERE. It was just me with an old iPod I’d borrowed from a friend, which only contained music by Bon Iver. I tried to work up some Carlos-worthy enthusiasm on the elliptical, but it wasn’t easy with Bon Iver quietly weeping in the background. I thought that I’d been stood up, or that, more likely, Carlos had died while trying to get to me.
Around 9:30, another Gold’s employee informed me that Carlos had arrived, but it was too late. I hated it there, with its bright neon lights and its competitive atmosphere and the total lack of fashion magazines. I pulled up my hood and snuck away without even saying goodbye.
A few days later, Carlos called me again. My heart breaking inside my chest, I explained to him that I couldn’t return to Gold’s Gym, mostly because they didn’t have magazines. Carlos was a model of understanding and compassion: “Anna, I’m so sorry to hear that. But when you change your mind, I want you to know that our door will always be open, and we will ALWAYS be here for you.” I almost cried. Because I knew we weren’t right for each other, but it was nice to know that Gold’s and I could continue to be friends.
I wish I could end this post by telling you that I found a new gym and lived happily ever after. Or I wish I could tell you that I decided I didn’t need a gym—that I’m a strong, independent woman who’s way too focused on her career right now to even think about working out. But the truth is, I’m just like anybody else, navigating my way through life and trying to find the perfect gym to spend my life with. And it can be scary, and it can be discouraging, but all I can do is get back up on that stationary bike and ride.
Don't forget to LIKE Annamal Crackers on Facebook and follow @AnnamalHalligan on Twitter!
