Computer says No… *cough*
So… as some of you might know, I’m on a bit of a health kick this year. No, it’s a not a lame new year’s resolution, but a serious attempt at self preservation as I stare 30 in the eye with shitty life habits.
Three months ago I gave up drinking Coke. About a month ago pop was cut out and more recently I’ve limited my intake of sugar to less than 40 grams a day.
So, now I want to go to the gym. I want to “look good naked”, as Kevin Spacey said in American Beauty.
But I don’t know the first damn thing about gyms. What do you lift? What do you pull? What’s with all these scary, intimidating people who look at me?
I headed to Fitxpress at 353 Gilmore Ave here in Burnaby.
I mustered up the courage to go upstairs and inquire about a membership earlier this week, only to find an empty counter. No staff member was present. Just a half glass of orange juice and a copy of Glamour magazine. I wait. I look. No staff person.
Seems kinda sketchy.
I go back today and find a quiet, pasty brunette. I stand at the counter. There were about 10 seconds of awkward silence before she looked at me.
“I’m here to inquire about joining this gym,” I say.
She glares at me for a second, puts down her magazine and hands me a little price card.
The prices are high.
There are giant $19.99 per month signs all over the front of the club and on all their material, but when I read the semi-fine print you have to sign a contract. Monthly fees range from $24.99 to $36.95 depending on the length of your contract, but you also have to pay a huge enrolment fee on top of that. There’s also an annual “club enhancement fee” of $20. They expect you to set up some direct deposit arrangement with your bank to save you the inconvenience of dealing with staff people, who are dead ringers for Carol Beer of Little Britain fame:
I explain that I don’t know a darn thing about gyms and ask about orientation sessions.
“Well, there is a lady who does it but I’d have to call her and she’ll get back to you,” she says, angrily eyeing her pink cell phone.
“Well, could I sign up for those orientation sessions then..”
Silence.
“She’d have to call you,” she finally says. “But I think all her classes are full.”
“So in order to even have that woman call me back, I need to sign this contract and fork out a big membership fee?” I ask.
“That’s correct,” she says. “Insurance and all.”
Ugh! I’m not giving them money – they’re unpleasant. I’m going to go to the community centre.
Dont join that type of gym! They are the evilist type of evil!!! I recommend joining a friendly community centre class. I highly recomend yoga as long as you have a good instructor it is a great class for beginners. No stress and no judgment. :)Often you dont need to sign up or pay for the whole session and can pay for only the individual classes you attend.
It couldn’t hurt!
Dolly: I’m soooo tempted to write a letter! Do you think I should?
Kristine! I’ll never forget the little bits of sunshine you gave me every day…
I also remember your activism. You were a huge proponent of something called WUSC which allowed poor kids from overseas to attend our university.
What ever happened to Diane? I’d love to get in touch with her again… If you like Little Britain gimme your postal addy… I’ll mail you some DVDs! 🙂
Nathaniel if it weren’t for your daily purchase of Coke at the Trent Bookstore, we never would have met!
You go, though! And thanks a lot for the link, now I’m hooked on Little Britain! 😛
sparticus on commercial… go there! or any community gym like Britannia or Bonsor
I would have no clue what I was doing in the gym either. Maybe you should start looking into exercises you could do at home. I wouldn’t be signing any contracts with those assholes.
I hate people who are at work and make you feel like you are an inconvenience to them. Fuck off!!
I should learn how, too. But I would be horribly embarrassed. 😛
free of charge of course….
i’ll teach you how to work out at a gym little one!