One particularly dark November evening when it was raining and gloomy and my plans got cancelled, I was moping about my house, thinking about how horrible it was going to be to have to run for 36 days in a row outside in Canada in the winter. Suddenly,I had an idea.
“I will go join the gym”, says me. For some people this is an unremarkable statement but the gym and I, we have not been friends in any consistent way. I have wasted many months of membership, incentive bonuses, packaged sessions and just. . .$$money$$ on gyms in the past and I thought I quit them.I have had success with personal training because it’s a one to one commitment and I promised I’d be there. That works for me. It’s the same reason I’m never late for work now. Clients are waiting and it doesn’t matter if really I’d like to call in. No calling in sick when you are a therapist.
But a thing possessed me and I went over to the new discount place by the mall. I was so determined not to get taken in and over sold (again). I failed (again) and got the package that, while lacking a “joining fee”, included the use of the massage chairs and other nice things. It cost about $70 more for the year. I did not sign up for the bi-weekly deduction from my bank account (yay me). That is the thing that means when your year is up and you fail to give notice, you are signed up for another year.
My goodness I hate gyms and their money sucking ways. No matter how hard they try to be positive and good for you and on your side, what they are really about is taking your dollars and hoping you don’t show up much. This gym doesn’t have any water fountains. Why? because they want to sell you bottled water. UGH!
On the bright side, the equipment is brand spanking new and there is lots of it. There are no irritating trainers trying to tell me I’m fat and should hire them to help with that. The people at the gym represent the diversity of my town and the middle aged/old/regular people seem to out populate the “look at me” pretty folk. I love looking at them, don’t get me wrong, but I really like appreciating the 70 year old dude on the chest press more. He reminds me what I’m aiming for which is mobility and vitality as time marches on.
Another bright side is I joined in Miserable November as opposed to Guilt Ridden January. Somehow that feels more authentic and less like travelling with lemmings.
As may be apparent, I am cynical about this action and yet, it is mine. Perhaps this latest wiser version of me-at-the-gym will make better use of the membership. I sure hope so.
I’ll keep you posted.