One perk of working at my new company is that there's a gym in the complex. And if you work within the office park, then you get to join the gym for TEN DOLLARS. A one-time payment. $10 forever.
This deal is perfect for me: it makes is even harder for me to ignore my tight-fitting pants. The gym is right there. I have to drive by it to go home. Plus, they have the fancy treadmills with the TVs attached, so I can work out while watching Paule Deen make shortbread cookies. (Counter-intuitive, but it's been than eating the cookies, right?)
The other day the gym called to let me know that as the final step in signing up I'd have to go and have a training session with one of the trainers. As a professional gym-joiner - and not necessarily a gym-goer - I've been through this before. You go. A big guy named Bif shows you how to use the equipment. And you go home. (You know, because that totally counts as a gym visit. Right?)
Today, I meet with Jay the Trainer.
Now, I know I can be a little...standoff-ish...when I'm not totally into something. And I'm totally NOT into having a personal trainer named Jay.
Jay has me warm up on the ARC machine while he does his sales pitch. I'm not sure if their plan is to make you weak and exhausted so you'll agree to anything as long as you can stop, but it seemed that's where today was going.
Apparently, today's session was number one of three. Oh, and these three sessions cost $20. Now, it's not the money (okay, it is a little), but don't you think the gym could have told me it was three sessions and it cost extra money when they MADE ME sign up?
As we move onto squats, Jay continues to talk to me about the program, and commitment, and sticking with the plan. If I needed this kind of talk I would have gone to an AA meeting. (Also? It's weird to just randomly do squats while some critiques you. Especially when they need you to do about 30 of them to make their analysis.) ((NOTE: my thighs are freaking burning right now.))
After a turn on the machine, we set up my next appointment. Jay asks me if I can come in next Friday at 6:30pm. Apparently Jay doesn't know that after 5pm on Friday is my appointment with my other trainer, Alcohol. (whom I like so much more than Trainer Jay, btw).
Oh, did I forget to mention that Jay gave me homework? GYM HOMEWORK? Wtf?
My homework is to weigh myself on Wednesday morning. And also to look through my closet and find an article of clothing that I think looks like shit on me (well, that's easy). And next week, I can share this information with Jay.
Did I mention I could sign up to take classes there for a mere $99 a month? Oh, and Jay costs $45 a session. So my $10-forever gym bill could technically be over $300 a month?
No thanks, Jay.
So now I have 2 more appointments with Jay, that I don't want. I'm going to his stupid gym class on Monday (my first one is free!), that I don't want to go to. And, now someone who works at the gym KNOWS me. So I can't workout in peace. I'll be self-conscious that someone is spying on me.
And I don't need anyone judging my fat body besides me...and Paula Deen.