Sushi and Shoe Shining

My ever-elusive quest to find a gym that I’ll actually go to continues.

You may recall that the Crunch Fitness that was so conveniently located in my apartment building closed down. Subsequently, those of us Crunch members who had been dislocated were provided with discount memberships at another Crunch place five blocks away.

I went there three times in the past two months. Also, since Crunch had closed down MY facility, the other one was always jam-packed. Not only was this other Crunch five blocks away and jam-packed, but they played really loud rap music all the time.

It made it very difficult for me to even hear my Enya and Vivaldi on my iPod.

It was not a happy place.

So, I joined a fancy-schmancy gym today. Actually, it’s not a gym but an athletic club. What’s the difference, you ask?

Well, an athletic club shines your shoes while you work out and also has a sushi bar inside.

Oh, and it also costs twice as much.

But the fancy-schmancy athletic club is next door to my workplace. Actually, it's connected to it. We can even smell the chlorine from the indoor pool in the lobby where I work. I would have to be a comatose amoeba not to get my sorry butt in there.

Please don’t think I have buckets of money with which to join fancy athletic clubs. My workplace gets a discounted membership for us and my workplace also reimburses us for half of any fitness membership we use. It comes out to a pretty sweet deal.

Oh, and this athletic club also has (I am not making this up) Doggy Yoga Class.
It’s called Paws & Flow.
Isn’t that cute? I’m definitely going to bring Portia. She would love it.

Besides the sushi bar and shoe-shining, this facility has an indoor pool, a roof-top pool, a sun deck, an indoor track, laundry services, a spa where they rub strange things on you, a pro shop and valet parking.

And not one scintilla of rap music.

I’m really looking forward to going there.

Still, I’m sort of confused. . . .

. . . Exactly how many calories will I actually burn while eating sushi and having my shoes shined?

You Just Never Know

Being a blogger, it’s a little mind-boggling to realize that everything we post becomes a permanent part of the vast cosmos of the Internet. Future employers will be able to retrieve it as well as future spouses, children, grandchildren, in-laws and outlaws.

One never knows who will be reading it someday. I really try to keep that in mind when I click that “Publish Post” button. I’m not always as prudent as I should be, but I try.

Yesterday, I posted a story about a woman and her kids who were recently booted off an airline because the airline claimed the kids were being unruly during the flight. I was making some witty and some semi-nasty remarks about the situation but ended up deleting my post.

I realized that these kids might possibly find my post and it would certainly wouldn’t have benefited them to see what I had written. So I deleted it.

Now, the kids probably wouldn't have come across my post, but you just never know.

Here’s a great illustration to make my point.

Recently, I was upset that the Crunch Fitness center was closing down the location I use which is conveniently located in the lobby of my apartment building. I blogged about how upset I was, mainly because the location was so convenient and about how I’d gone straight to the front desk and cancelled my membership.

A couple of days later, I decided to keep my membership. After all, there’s another Crunch just five blocks away. I blogged about that as well.

It turned out that those of us “dislocated” by the closure are getting all sorts of nice benefits.

Here’s the point I want to make: Last week, I received an email from the head of Crunch’s P.R. department in New York, saying that she had read my blog and was glad I had decided to keep my membership.

She said she’d like to send some Crunch attire to me along with some free guest passes.

I recalled that Miss Healthypants had wanted to attend a Kangoo class at Crunch, but those are for members only and not available to guests. So, I responded to the nice Crunch P.R. person, asking if a friend could attend a Kangoo class with me.

I received the box of Crunch goodies yesterday along with the four passes. Miss Healthypants and I will be attending a Kangoo class soon. (That should definitely make for a hilarious blog).

Isn't that nice?

See? You just never know who will be reading your blog.

You just never know.

Crunch Update

Okay, I can quit banging on my high chair about Crunch Fitness.

I'm sure all the major news networks have reported this, but Crunch will be closing down the facility that I use on July 31st. That means that I’ll have the inconvenience of actually walking five whole blocks in order to walk on a treadmill at another facility.

The mind reels.

As I began to relate to the Katrina victims, I had been thinking that the horrible, inconsiderate Crunch people should give us some sort of compensation for this colossal upheaval in our lives.

It turns out, they did.

I found out last night that we will all receive the following compensation:

1. Three free months of membership.

2. Our monthly memberships will be reduced by ten dollars, permanently.

3. All our memberships will be changed to “universal” ones at no cost. In other words, we’ll be able to use any Crunch nationwide.

Actually, this is pretty good compensation for being displaced.

My workplace actually pays us $50 per month toward a gym membership. Since my Crunch membership will now be $56 per month, I'll be out-of-pocket six whole dollars per month to have a universal Crunch membership.

A situation like that is the ultimate dream of My People.

I should put away the high chair. Really.

Since I know you all were incredibly concerned about my happiness and welfare, I’m sure you're all breathing a huge sigh of relief over this news.

Too Good to Be True

I really like the gym where I’ve been working out. As you may recall, it’s a Crunch Fitness Center and it’s ever so conveniently located in the lobby of my apartment building at Marina City.

I’ve been noticing that another thing I like about it is that it’s never very crowded. There’s never a bunch of people looking at me in my gym attire or laughing at me when I, unknowingly, sit backwards on a particular piece of torture equipment.

I like that.

Just the other day, I was noticing that this facility was never very crowded, even in the mornings before work. And I was wondering if this facility was actually profitable to the Crunch people, especially since there’s another Crunch place just five blocks away.

It turns out that my observations were dead on. When I went to work out on Saturday, there was the following notice on the door:

“After serving you faithfully for nine years at this location, we will be closing our doors and turning off the last treadmill at 10:00 pm on Thursday, July 31.”

I knew it was all too good to be true! Having a nice Crunch Fitness in the same building that I live in which hardly anyone else used was just too much of a good thing.

What made it even more frustrating what that I was really seeing some noticeable results from faithfully torturing myself in this convenient location. My biceps and triceps and forceps finally got some muscle-action going on. I’d be typing at my keyboard and think, “Whose arms are those?”

When I saw that sign, I got into my banging-on-the-high-chair mode and went all huffy-puffy to the front desk and cancelled my membership. That notice also said, “We’ve reserved a spot for you at one of our other convenient locations.”

“The hell you have,” I thought. “Nothing is as convenient as having this place just an elevator ride away.”

Besides, I could always just go there in my dorky work-out clothes, rain or shine, heat or snow. I never had to use the dressing room or bring other clothes with me.

That was so nice. And now it’s all being taken away from me.

I felt like my neighborhood parish was closing on me. I really did.

Me. Me. Me!

I thought I’d look into joining a gym that’s next to my work place. After all, I could just go there after work on my way home.

However, it turned out that it’s a really snooty country-club type of facility that has a pro shop, valet parking, a laundry service, and they shine your shoes while you eat sushi.

Oh, and it costs $132 a month. No thanks.

Maybe I should re-consider staying with Crunch and going to the one five blocks away.

Here’s how I look at it: There were so many times that I would work out for only about fifteen minutes precisely because I knew I could come back anytime. Maybe, if I had to walk five blocks to another Crunch, I’d actually spend some time there and get my money’s worth with each visit.

The other Crunch also offers yoga classes. Mine doesn't. And I'm pretty good at yoga and actually enjoy it.

I could also stop and have Starbuck’s on the way. Oh! And there’s a Bed, Bath & Beyond nearby. That’s a big plus. Oh! And it’s really close to Trader Joe’s. I could go to Trader Joe’s every day, easily.

Also, it would get my sorry ass out of the house.

And, HELLO!, a five-block walk, round trip, is exactly one mile. I joined a gym exactly for the purpose of getting some activity, not avoiding it.

I just called Crunch back and asked them to cancel my cancellation request.

Sigh. . .

Peek-a-boo Update

Yesterday, I wrote that my gym, Crunch Fitness, advertises "Peek-a-boo showers" as one of their amenities.

Click here if you don't believe me.

I was wondering, “what the heck is a peek-a-boo shower?”

Last night, I was out with The Gang at our favorite place, Lao Sze Schuan and mentioned the peek-a-boo shower thing. We were all intrigued. Miss Healthypants whipped out her cell phone and called Iwanski at home and he googled it.

He reported that it was a shower and something about being able to see the occupant.

I thought that was really odd for Crunch Fitness to feature such a thing as a selling point. It’s a downtown gym where downtown people go. I could certainly see something like this being popular at, say, Cheetah Gym in the Boystown section of Chicago. But at the Crunch in my building? Most of the occupants in my building seem to be elderly Jewish women. Hardly the type of demographic that would enjoy peek-a-boo anything.

So, this morning, I called Crunch Fitness and in a very mellifluous voice, explained that I had seen “peek-a-boo” showers on their website and my friends and I were all wondering what they were.

“Please hold,” he said.

Then a woman came on the phone and I repeated my inquiry. Are you ready for this?

There’s a hallway that leads to the locker rooms. At the end of the hallway, it splits, boys on one side, girls on the other. Along the walls of the hallway are the peek-a-boo showers behind glass. Two for the boys, two for the girls. Whenever anyone is taking a shower in there, anyone in the hallway can see the silhouette of the person taking the shower.

Isn’t that weird? And it’s advertised as an amenity.

It seems like that is a feature that could open them up to a lawsuit. Some guy could be doing naughty things behind the glass for all to see. Senator Larry Craig could have gotten arrested for tapping his foot in there. You never know.

What kind of people use these things? I certainly wouldn’t want to use the peek-a-boo shower. Well, if I did, I’d do shadow-things with my hands. I can do a butterfly and a dog.

I think it would be hilarious to stage a Psycho stabbing scene in the peek-a-boo and watch the reactions.

Comedic potential is always the way to go.

PS: I took Citymouse's advice and googled it. (She's so smart) Here is a pic of another Crunch facility that features peek-a-boo showers visible from the lobby. Here's what they say:

The lobby backdrop features Crunch's signature element, the peek-a-boo shower. A portion of locker room shower stalls are located behind a double-frosted glass wall providing silhouetted views of willing club patrons.

I wonder what the Crunch salespeople would do if some huge, obese people occupied all the peek-a-boos that are visible from the lobby. I could just see that happening during a big membership drive. It would serve those smarmy salespeople right.

I still think someone should do the Psycho shower scene.

Peek-a-boo

The other night, I needed to know the hours that my gym was open so I looked at their website. (It’s Crunch Fitness, by the way)

I was perusing the amenities that Crunch has to offer, hoping to find some modicum of exercise that didn’t, well, hurt.

One of the amenities that really looked questionable was . . . are you ready for this? . . .
. . . “Peek-a-boo showers.”

Now, what in the world are “peek-a-boo showers?”

I’m intrigued. Why would anyone want to use a shower where one could peek in or out? I remember those horrible “community showers” back in high school gym class. Those were just blatantly non-private.

So, what is a peek-a-boo shower?

The Crunch facility I go to is in the lobby of my apartment building, so I’ve never any need to use the locker room facilities. Besides, locker rooms? Eewww. That’s like walking in foot-fungus quicksand.

I’m not going to peek into the locker room to see what peek-a-boo showers are. That would look weird.

Also, I’m not going to ask one of the attendants what a peek-a-boo shower is. That would be suspect and I’d be too embarrassed to ask anyway.

It’s a dilemma. How do I find out?

I know. I’ll call Senator Larry Craig’s office.

They’ll know.

The Gym. "I'm Back".

Okay. I did it.

I joined the gym.

Again.

It’s a Crunch Fitness center and it’s located in the lobby of my apartment building. I won’t have to actually GO anywhere to work out. I won’t have to get in the car and drive. I won’t have to bring gym clothes with me to work. I won’t have to go out in the cold.

I’ll only have to take the elevator down 49 floors and walk across a climate-controlled lobby. The convenience factor for this place is off the charts.
I shouldn’t have any excuses.

But I really need to join the gym. More than that, I need to actually GO to the gym and actually work up a sweat. Here I am:
Age: 48
Height: 6’ 2½”
Weight: 220 lbs.

This boy needs to do a lot of sweating.

The Crunch employee who signed me up was this very enthusiastic young thing named Crystal who spoke wayyy to fast for me to understand. I told her I was originally from Texas and my little Southern ears just couldn’t keep up with what she was saying; she was going to have to bring it down a notch. Ha-ha-ha. She tried, but eventually failed.

Crystal gleefully pointed out the new Stair-Masters they had. I thought to myself how ridiculous it was to be paying money every month to use a Stair-Master when I live on the 49th floor! I’ll bet most of those folks frantically bobbing on the Stair-Masters live in my 60-story apartment building and take an elevator and pay to use a Stair-Master.
Typical life in the U.S. really.

Apparently, all new members get a free session with a trainer. The last thing I wanted was to have some muscled-up dude named "Mace" watch me struggle with a 4 oz. barbell. That’s what happened every day in gym class and my life’s goal is to avoid anything remotely associated with gym class, thank-you-very-much.
“But it comes free with your membership!” chirped Crystal.

I knew that the “free” session with a trainer was just a ploy to have Mace sell private sessions. Besides, paying for my notion of a "private session" is a misdemeanor in Illinois.

I tried my best to tell Crystal that I really just wanted to be left alone at the gym.
No, I don’t want to do kick-boxing.
No, I don’t want to join the psycho-aerobics classes.
No, I definitely don't want to play adult dodgeball. Good god!

However, they do have this new type of aerobics call “Kangarooing” where you hop around on these springy-boingy shoes. That might be fun. Except I've learned the hard way that really tall people have a really high center of gravity. Springy-boingy activities aren't very conducive to an injury-free existence. It might be prudent to stay away from "Kangarooing."

I wish the music wasn’t so loud in that place! It made me nervous. Decades ago, it was disco music they played. Now, it’s all hip-hop, which as you know, I don’t consider music anyway. Because of the loud music and Crystal’s lightening fast speech cadence, I didn’t get most of what she was saying. I hope the loud hip-hop music won’t interfere with the Enya and Bach that I’ll be listening to on my iPod.
God, that’s sad.

Finally, after all the joining-up was completed, Crystal said, “So, do you want to work out now?”

I thought, “Are you kidding me?? It’s Sunday and I need a nap!”

Not a good sign.

Now, if I could only find some shorts that don't make me look like a total dork. . .

The Gym

I've been meaning to go to the gym for the past twenty-five years.

Oh, I've joined. Lots of times. I just never actually go there on a regular basis.

The first gym I joined was in downtown Austin next to the bank where I worked. I figured I'd go there since it would be so convenient. I did actually go there about a dozen times. Mary Lou Retton worked out at the same facility which was really humiliating. She was like a hummingbird on crystal meth, madly pumping on a set of weights then buzzing to the next and the next.

Meanwhile, I'd be staring at the leg press, trying to figure out how to work the damn thing.

I've probably spent more energy in getting out of a gym membership than I did actually using one.

I don't like working out, mainly for one reason: It hurts!!

I know, I know. No-pain-no-gain and all that.
But my philisophy is, "No pain? - - - - hey! No pain!"

But I'm at the age now where I really need to work out. Not just because I'll look better, but it's now a health issue. I now have a nice job, a nice place to live, wonderful friends, a blue Cuisinart, and I want to be around to enjoy these things for as long as I can.

Wouldn't you know it? I finally get my head together and my ass falls apart!

There's a Crunch Fitness actually located in the lobby of my apartment building. I wouldn't even have to go outside to go there. And we, as residents, get a half-price membership. (They now offer dodgeball for adults which sends shivers of horror down my spine. I don't think I'll be doing that). I could even go there at 9:00 PM each night when no one else is around to actually see me stare at the machines, wondering what to do.

But each night at 9:00 PM, I'm usually on the couch watching my "Geek TV." You know, the National Geographic Channel, the Science Channel, the Discovery Channel. If there's a documentary about conjoined twins, or a new planet, or Bigfoot, I am there!

Man, I gotta get to the gym. . . .