Going to the gym in India has been an quite an experience so far. I have a feeling that it will only become more interesting when I transition from my hotel gym to an actual gym…you know… someday… when our apartment is ready… maybe next week. Maybe not.
A few days ago I recounted part of my first gym experience here, but little did I know, that was just a taste of what I was in for.
There is always a hotel staff member on hand manning the gym, which is kind of cool. It makes me feel a bit safer working out in there alone, especially since I have had a few bad experiences in the past with weirdos bugging me in hotel gyms. In addition to offering some feeling of safety, the gym boy is always on it when it comes to making sure that I am comfortable and have everything that I need. Water? Towels? He’s got it.
During my first run at the gym, he approached my treadmill, “Ma’am, you forgot your towel.” Sweet, he was right, I did, and, with the lack of air conditioning in the gym, I was going to need it. [Did I mention that thing about no A/C? What’ s up with that?]
As I ran, I began to appreciate the instructional posters on the wall.
These must be originals from when this hotel opened in 1975. They are so awesomely retro that they are kind of cool again. That said, the posters ultimately have nothing to do with my overall gym experience, but I do hope that you appreciate them as much as I do. Fortunately, the cardio equipment and some of the weights have been replaced/upgraded more recently than the posters have.
After finishing up my first run, I began my pathetic attempt at completing a New Rules of Lifting for Women workout. Once again, Gym Boy was right there by my side. “Ma’am, can I set this machine for you?”
Ok, this was getting a little weird.
Stunned, and unsure of how to politely tell him to back off, I just went with it, did my sets, and moved to the next machine where he again tried to help. Must do something to nix this, but must not be rude!
“Um, thanks, but I got it.” … “No, really, I don’t need your help.” … “Its ok, I can take care of it.”
Finally Gym Boy backed off.
Day two at the gym was much less eventful. Somewhat surprising considering that I was exercising against the rules.
Ladies with a job, you’re out of luck here. Lucky for me I’m working an odd schedule to overlap some with US Eastern Time.
It took me several days to get this picture because I didn’t want anyone to see that I was taking it. If I acknowledge the rules I feel obligated to start following them. Not going to happen. I wonder how many days before someone calls me out on it. If anyone asks, I can’t read.
I really hope that the “real” gym doesn’t have this nonsense. That won’t float with me. Ok, it will probably have to, but it doesn’t make me happy.
Yesterday rates as my most exciting day at the gym yet. Running and lifting again. Gym Boy knows that I lift solo now, so that part went smoothly. Perhaps in an attempt to overcompensate for not assisting me with my lifting workout, Gym Boy was kind enough to help me with my run instead.
I hopped on the treadmill, set up my water and towel prominently on the dashboard as to not draw extra attention from Gym Boy, found MSNBC [I’m into super exciting programming like that] on TV, and settled into a comfortable pace thinking I was free and clear.
Not so fast. In swooped Gym Boy to save the day.
With very few options for assistance to provide, he reached over the treadmill dashboard to “fix” my TV channel. I decided to just go with it, after all, he would be finished in a minute and I could get back to my news watching shortly. No big deal. Patience and deep breaths. Patience and deep breaths.
After Gym Boy selected a channel for me, which I’m pretty sure was not in English, he got more bold. I was so stunned that I didn’t even say anything and just let him proceed with his treadmill adjustments.
He changed the speed of my treadmill.
If he had gone all Jillian Michaels on me “Come on you pansy, you can run faster than that.” I might have thanked him, but I must have been going too fast for his liking as he slowed me down to 5 km/hr…for the non-enginerds, that’s like 3 MPH.
Somehow this experience ended without me saying a word. I had no words. I didn’t know what to think. With that, Gym Boy left the room, and I returned to my regularly scheduled pace and programming. Still dumbfounded.
I’m sure that this is just the beginning of confusing situations and odd behavior during my stay in India. This is really good for me as it may help me develop more patience than I ever even knew that I needed.
Please keep your fingers crossed for me that I can find a nearby gym that allows Chris and I to exercise at the same time.