Tuesday, September 30, 2008

Saying no to a washboard stomach


The 23rd Street location of New York Health and Racquet Club.

Remember the Friends episode when Chandler tries to end his membership at his gym, and Ross goes with him for moral support but ends up joining as well?   

Ross: So why don't you quit?
Chandler: You don't think I've tried? You think I like to have 50 dollars taken out of my bank account every month? No, they make you go all the way down there! Then they use all these phrases and peppiness to try to confuse you. And then they bring out Maria.
Ross: Who is Maria?
Chandler: Ah, Maria. You can't say no to her. She's like this lycra/spandex covered gym...treat.

Ross: One more time: Hey, don't you want a washboard stomach and rock hard pecs?
Chandler: No, I want a flabby gut and saggy man-breasts.

Art imitated life when I tried to quit my gym membership this month.  My phone call to request cancellation of membership and automatic bank draft was answered with, "Sure Miss Mummert, if you are no longer interested in maintaining your health and exercise program, we'll be happy to help you cancel your membership...you just need to come to the gym in person."  The next day I walked with a determined pace over to the gym, noting the 15 minute distance which all the more fueled my reasonings for quitting - "why am I paying so much for a gym when the round trip just to get there is a free 30-minute work out?"

Pony tail swinging, I marched right up to the sleek counter and proclaimed, "I'm here to cancel my membership!"  I was prepared to be cajoled and questioned, but the pudgy manager who always makes me wonder how he got to be manager of a gym reached for a form and explained the cancellation process:  I had to complete the form and send it via certified mail to an office located just a few streets away; I would still be charged for the months of September and October, but - aren't I lucky - I could enjoy the benefits of my membership through the end of October.  

Rage boiled inside me, "You mean I can't just quit now? Isn't that why I had to come here in person?!  And two more months?!  I signed up for the month to month plan so I would be able to quit 'at any time'!!"  The manager smiled and said he doesn't make the rules, just enforces them.  "Well, this is upsurd!" I shouted and slapped my hand on the counter before marching up the steps to work out since it was already money out of my pocket.  

After writing a scathing letter, standing in a long post office line, and paying $3.21 to mail it 30 blocks, I received notice that my membership would be cancelled at the end of September - victory!  I tried to go to the gym everyday to make the most of the last weeks of against-my-will membership.  Sunday night of the final week, I looked around the weight room and counted at least five cute, non-muscle head guys who I had never seen before.  "Great," I thought, "is this NYHRC's attempt at bringing out 'Maria' so I don't want to quit?"  

As I loaded the chest press with 10 pound weights on each side, I smiled at how far I had come in the last months.  Just recently I graduated from 5 to 10 pounds and could press the machine forward without it making my arms shake as I did so, a far cry from when I first joined and the trainer told me his grandma could lift more weight than I could.  Oh, the sweet memories!  Lauren and I used to head over to the gym after work for Cardio Sculpt with Angel or Jab with Billy.  Oh, and there's the time we finally braved Yoga, and when the teacher announced the next move was a head stand, we looked at each other with wide eyes and promptly moved our mats to the wall for the alternate position - laying on back with legs against the wall.  As we laid there in the silent darkness, the only guy in the class attempted his head stand, and mid-legup, the poor guy pooted so loud that I spent the rest of the class biting my lip not to laugh.  

I snapped out of my walk down gym memory lane as I let go of the handles after my last rep with the 10-pound weights because it was then I remembered the countless times I've had to dodge naked women in the locker room - more often fat and old than firm and trim.  "Yes," I thought as I nodded at one of the cute boys taking over my machine, "no matter the good, it's time to go."

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