Once in a very rare blue moon, I actually make it to the gym which I am spending too much money on to not be visiting more often. That’s what happens when you get sucked in by a good deal and sign on a dotted German contract line that essentially commits you to lifelong membership. So yes, I am locked into a membership at a spa-like gym that I can’t really afford and that I don’t take advantage of as I should.
But back to the gym itself. Holmes Place is appropriately called a Health Club, as it is definitely not just a gym. Combine gym and spa and you get Holmes Place, or HP, as I like to call it. In a word, it’s awesome, and I am not one to go crazy about places to work out. Which means this place must be pretty amazing, and it is. It’s my little haven of peace and quiet in the middle of the city, and next to my favorite cafés, it’s one of the best spots to recharge.
Which brings me to yesterday’s visit, which was the first in quite some time. Maybe even the first this year. Luckily for me, however, limiting cake since Christmas and doing the occasional Pop Sugar workout via YouTube resulted in a fairly easy twenty minutes on the treadmill, which would have normally been difficult. Making things even better, the scale outside the sauna reported that I am down exactly 2.3 kilos, putting me very close to my best personal weight ever. Numbers don’t lie, do they? What a great afternoon!
Between the easier-than-expected run and a lighter body, I was impressed that one can skip the gym for months and still see results. So I packed my things to leave, and with that healthy post work-out and sauna glow I smugly thought to myself that you didn’t need regular gym outings to get fit and look great. And hey, while I’m at it, why not play cool and act as though I’m here all the time. Who would know?
So I pranced out of the dressing room, bag and wet towels in tow (you are expected to put away your used towels at HP). All was good until I realized that the towel bin was no longer where it had been before. Hmm. Walking around a bit lost, one of the employees asked what I was looking for and then informed me that the towel bin was now downstairs. Of course I couldn’t just thank him and leave, so we started chatting. The following conversation ensued, and my bluff was called:
“But wasn’t the bin here?” I asked, pointing to the area where it had been.
“A long time ago it was!” Said Mitch, who had introduced himself – a very friendly older black American man with a sense of humor. “Are you a member here?” He looked at the trainer he had been speaking to, and both were smiling.
“Yes! But it’s been a while,” I answered and we all laughed. Then I switched to excuse-mode, saying, “I have kids, it’s hard to find time to work out. But I do ten minute Pop Sugar workouts sometimes!” Both men looked confused.
Mitch asked, “Pop Sugar workouts, are those high intensity?”
I stuttered, “Um, I’m not sure I’d call them high intensity … but I just stepped on the scales and I’m almost my ideal weight!”
“What was your name again?” Mitch asked, still chuckling. I told him my name, a tiny bit nervous as this point.
“Well, young lady – if I don’t see you check in here at least twice a week to train, I’m going to put you on the bad girls list, and then Sergeant Mitch is going to give you a call to ask where you’ve been!”
That was pretty much the end of the conversation, and yes, the towel bin was right at the bottom of the stairs, as Mitch had said. The obvious takeway is that you can’t really fool anyone but yourself about something that isn’t reality. Pop Sugar Fitness and less cake may mean lighter weight, but if you aren’t making regular trips to the gym, you better just keep your mouth shut.
(p.s. My plan is to make Saturday afternoons a regular HP workout day as long as my three kiddos are with their dad, but even if that does happen it’s still only once a week, so in the meantime I’ll be ready to hear from Sergeant Mitch!)