Dec 11 2002
The Gym Virgin
So I finally lost my virginity.
My gym virginity, that is. Astonishing though the gym employees seemed to find it, I have never been to one before in my life. They tried to account for this with illness or injury and seemed rather taken aback when I assured them it was just sloth and a lifelong distaste for sweat and communal showers. But the mushiness of my upper arms, which are an offense to my aesthetic sense and must therefore be vanquished, inspired me to go. That and the fear of becoming a fragile old lady. It’s time to start giving back to the shell that has served me so well for 40 years, and especially considering some of the things I have done (and not done) to it. Kind of amazing I’m alive, really. Anyway, if I want to keep it for another 40 years, I better start taking care of it, n’est-ce pas?
I have also been inspired by the fit and unflappable Candi, and my cousin Les, who became a gym aficionado between my seeing him in August, 2001 and September, 2002, and let me tell you, wow. So with these shining examples before me, I decided to get off my ass and put myself in the hands of a personal trainer.
Since it’s me, I picked the place that is not only the most convenient, but the prettiest. It used to be the glorious, Moorish-inspired Alhambra theater, built by the architect Timothy Pflueger, who also created Oakland’s Paramount and the Castro Theater in San Francisco (both of these are alive and well and still theaters). But due to the encroaching multi-plexes, the Alhambra closed down and was empty for a couple of years before being made into a gym. I was amazed to see how much (though, alas, not the lobby fountain) of the original interior had been preserved and restored, including the spectacular ceiling and the movie screen, which you can watch while being tortured into a more beautiful you.
As Chandler Bing would say, could I be any more Californian? Vegetarian wannabe; blonde and shallow; inveterate buyer of organic food; has a therapist; drinker of bottled spring water and not much else; pro cosmetic surgery; owner of a vintage convertible; and now has a personal trainer. Thus are stereotypes created. Though I do draw the line at tofu.