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.
5 Responses to “The Gym Virgin”
Okay, working on the tofu issue. Go to Thai Stick at California and Fillmore, order the Tofu Krob (#53 or #56 or somewhere around there). It’ll change your mind about tofu. Meg always said she hated tofu, but she craves what we call Crispy Crunch Tofu. My brother is a major meat eater and whenever we go there he asks “Are you going to get the tofu? Can I have some?” And then he scarfs tofu off my plate.
Good for you, Suzy. Maybe you’ll be an inspiration to me! 😉
I have a love/hate relationship with the gym, like most people. I like the results but hate the sweat.
Whatever you do -don’t turn into one of those people who go to the gym and don’t exert themselves in any way. You must sweat, you must work whatever muscle group of the day to exhaustion, you should hurt the next day. If you don’t, I’ll have to make a trip down there to give you a talkin to.
Yay for you!!! I didn’t think you’d actually do it. I thought your fear of looking stupid would get the better of you. So yay! 🙂
Don’t worry – I sweat, all right! That’s why I have the trainer: to tell me/show me what to do and make sure I’m doing it right. I look absolutely repulsive when it’s over, I assure you, and I almost certainly look stupid while I’m doing it. And oh, yeah, I feel it!
Maybe I will even bring myself to try that tofu the next time I’m shopping on Fillmore. Kathleen hasn’t lied to me yet!