That Time I Went to the Gym

My roommate Laura invited me to the gym, and naturally I felt inclined to go. As much as I am loving my carbolicious lifestyle, my booty is getting a little too big for it’s own good.

I expected the gym to be like any other: rather dark and unpleasant, with rubbery floors, an awful color scheme and grunting men galore. Instead, the floors were marble, the front desk workers all wore suits and ties and there were even multiple saunas, for days when you just can’t decided between a dry sauna and a wet sauna.

Laura and I decided to check out a BodyPump class, which is big thing here in Europe. In case you are unfamiliar with BodyPump, its a barbell weight lifting class coordinated to today’s hottest music. In other words, its like a Zumba class taught by a coked up Schwarzenegger.

The class was taught by José, a ripped Spaniard with a man bun and hipster glasses. Actually, I don’t know what his name was, but he definitely looked like he could be a José. For 45 minutes he yelled over pop hits like Iggy Azalea’s Fancy, while making awkward eye contact with me during squats. The class then culminated with an overly dramatic stretch session set to Sia’s Chandelier.

Against my will, Laura and I then migrated to a spin class. After 45 minutes of squats, lunges and dead-lifts, the last thing I wanted was for my stubby little legs to pedal a bike. Midway through the class, the instructor declared that we were climbing a mountain, which means you set your gears really high and trudge along as hard as you can. He proceeded to blast a techno remix of the Pirates of the Caribbean theme song. He then turned off the main lights, and green strobe lights came on. 

It felt like one of those clubs you go to in Mexico when you’re 18 and are too wasted to notice that you’re having a bad time. I really did expect strippers to bust into the spin class at any moment with trays of tequila shots.

I’m pretty sure I won’t be able to move any of my limbs tomorrow, but I’m excited to keep going to the gym here. They’re really onto something with the whole, “Maybe if it feels more like a rave and less like exercise, people will enjoy it.”

Me doing BodyPump. Just kidding, my real photo would have involved a lots more sweat and panting.

Me doing BodyPump. Just kidding, my real photo would have involved a lot more sweat and panting.

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