Before I embark on this little detour to Rantsville, I have to put things in a bit of perspective.
I hate the sound of my phone ringing. When cell phones came into being, we stuffed them in our purses or pockets and chained ourselves to the outside world. There is something to be said for the days when people couldn’t get a hold of you anytime, anywhere. Sometimes I miss being able to hang out at the pub or go to dinner with friends without one of us getting called or texted a gazillion times.
But that’s not what this post is about, really. I hate the sound of my phone ringing, especially when I’m at home. Lee is the only one I’d want to talk to who normally calls and makes it “ring,” and if I’m home with him he’s obviously not the one calling. All my friends and family tend to text more than call. So they make the phone “chirp,” not “ring.”
So when I’m home in the middle of writing or enjoying a good TV show and my phone rings, I cringe a little. It never has a good grace to ring when I’m doing something like scrubbing the toilet, you know?
And it rings all too much these days, since I joined the new gym.
Don’t get me wrong, I love the gym. It is making me look better, and more importantly, feel better. My energy levels are up, my tummy is slowly shrinking, and those things called muscles are gradually reappearing. I owe much to my new relationship with the gym.
But we see each other 4-5 times a week, so I see no need for it to call me all the time, too. That’s just being clingy.
My new gym doesn’t see things the same way. It loves the phone, and makes up all sorts of dumb excuses to call me. Yes, I realize the brick and mortar building itself isn’t calling me. Even my writer’s imagination doesn’t take things THAT far. It is the uniformed minions within who seem to keep putting me at the top of their phone list.
We have the same conversation over and over again, but like a clingy lover who doesn’t understand the need for personal space, the gym keeps ringing me back for more. I’ve stopped answering the phone when their number comes up, but in a last-ditch effort to explain myself here are the answers to their questions that pop up over and over again.
1. No, I do NOT want a personal trainer.
Long ago, I figured out how to lose weight and get in shape. I have to work out and consume less calories than I burn up. I have to incorporate cardio and targeted weight training. What I don’t know in terms of new exercises and the best ways to target certain areas, I can read online. My problem was never not knowing what to do. It was not doing it.
I don’t want a personal trainer for two reasons. One is that I’m an introvert in an extraverted world, and I have made the gym part of my sorely lacking “introvert time.” My workout is for my body, but also for my mind. For that hour a day, I am all alone with me, myself and I, even if there are other exercisers treadmilling and weightlifting all around me. I can fade into my thoughts as my body does its thing. It is that aspect of my routine that makes the gym a truly holistic thing for me.
If I have a trainer, I have to TALK to him or her while I’m working out. Call me a rude little douche if you want, but that is highly unappealing. I am much more interested in the thoughts and stories in my head than I am in someone telling me to do one more rep, thankyouverymuch.
The other reason I don’t want a personal trainer is that I am a broke-ass bitch, and one isn’t included in the membership fee. Can I make it any clearer than that?
2. My friends don’t want any part of our relationship.
What are you, a perv? If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you fifty times. My friends have their own relationships, and aren’t interested in getting involved in ours.
I understand that you are trying to drum up membership, and the best source of new clients is often current customers who are satisfied with your service. But as I’ve told you before, I have no friends or family members who want to sign up.
Well, that’s not quite true. I do. But guess what? They’re already members. You’re probably calling THEM too, trying to convince them to get ME to sign on.
Everyone I know who wants to join a gym in this area is already on board. My other friends live too far away or belong to their own gyms and aren’t interested in cheating on them. The few that don’t fall into this category have their own self-designed workout regimens that involve repeatedly lifting beer bottles. You may not approve, but it seems to work for them.
So, just to recap: Thanks but no thanks on the personal trainer, and my friends do NOT want to come out and play with us.
Now, please stop blowing up my phone. I will never break up with you, because you’ve done ever so much for me and I’m very grateful. But I AM blocking your calls. Our relationship will be ever so much healthier if you give me a little space.