Gold's Gym

Tonight Mark and I decided to make use of some free 24-hour passes to Gold’s Gym that we had. When we arrived at the gym, we were welcomed by a guy with a hairdo that should be called “mohawk meets mullet.” I was scared.

I had a hard time paying attention to the representative’s descriptions of the many plans and their features, partly because I couldn’t imagine how hair like that could be socially acceptable under any circumstance, and partly because I’d never seen so many TVs going at the same time in one room.

Mullet-mohawk man kept our driver’s licenses--no doubt to copy down our address and phone numbers for future harassment purposes--and let us in. I don’t remember the last time I got to spend over an hour working out without kids in tow!

As luck would have it, I had packed a white shirt and black shorts to exercise in. Little did I know, 95% of Gold’s Gym’s patrons tonight were wearing some variation of white shirt, black shorts. Luckily, no one else had chosen to sport the mohawk-mullet, otherwise, I might have ditched the free pass and run right home.

I logged time on the elliptical and spent more energy trying to keep my eyes away from the subtitles on a cartoon I found highly offensive, and ill-deserving of the word “family” in its title, than I probably spent on the exercise itself. Then I tried out the treadmill (all the while wondering if I did buy a pass, and brought some friends, if Gold’s Gym would let us practice the amazing treadmill dance on their equipment).

Not to be outdone by Mark, who was still going strong on the weights, I jumped on a stationary bike and tried to pretend like I was not trying to keep up with my neighboring biker. Ten minutes later, when my self-esteem and thighs were shot, I left my neighbor to continue his training for the Tour de France, and went to check out the hot tub.

The hot tub was great, and luckily there was a sauna to dry off in afterwards, because I had convinced Mark that surely the gym supplied towels for its patrons. Oops.

The last feat of the night consisted of trying to get our driver’s licenses back without wasting half an hour explaining why we weren’t willing to make a 3 year commitment, even if mullet-mohawk man dropped the exorbitant joining fee “because it’s a slow Friday night.” Sensing we were staunch in our determination to not be made suckers, he desperately asked us if there was anything he could do to change our minds and get us to commit to a 3-year-plan tonight. Mark told him our idea of an acceptable price range, and mullet-mohawk man shook his head with what almost looked like anger and said “No way!” before sliding our licenses across the table.

I won’t deny that I looked longingly at the childcare center as we left Gold’s Gym. But, let’s face it. I’m better off running on the streets around my home. Then I won’t have to look at ginormous posters of women with 6-packs, wearing sports bras, and I can wear whatever color shirt and shorts I want!