On my way home tonight, I peeked into the window of the ConnAve Washington Sports Club and realized something: women in DC care more about how they look at the gym than how they look at the office.
I should preface this post by saying I have long been that girl who prefers exercising in a gym to exercising outside.
But just because I like veritable proof of my total calories burned and I need to be running in front of an MSNBC prison documentary on my own cable-ready flat-screen TV doesn't mean I'm one of those women who mounts the elliptical with the most recent issue of Vogue under one arm, her cell phone, iPod and Palm Pilot under the other and draped headband-to-toe in perfectly complementary, fade-free gray, mint and white Stella McCartney-for-Adidas exercise separates.
But just because I like veritable proof of my total calories burned and I need to be running in front of an MSNBC prison documentary on my own cable-ready flat-screen TV doesn't mean I'm one of those women who mounts the elliptical with the most recent issue of Vogue under one arm, her cell phone, iPod and Palm Pilot under the other and draped headband-to-toe in perfectly complementary, fade-free gray, mint and white Stella McCartney-for-Adidas exercise separates.
After choosing resistance level one, incline level zero, and answering another non-emergency phone call (subjecting the entire gym to their whatever-song-is-number-one-on-Billboard ringtone), these women do their requisite 30 minutes and manage to finish without sacrificing more than three, maybe four beads of sweat. All the while, making those of us who actually want to use the machines in a semi-athletic manner, sit and wait and grow enraged over their why-bother attempts at cardiovascular exercise.
Your time at the gym is not for socializing and not for color coordination but rather for trying to drop your 9-minute mile to an 8:40-minute mile.
Instead of boutique Lacoste workout shorts, go to your university store (most have online equivalents) and pay $12 for a pair with your school's name emblazoned on the bottom. Instead of an Under Armour tank, throw on your Nader-for-President t-shirt with the permanently stained armpits and pulled seams you got at the Green rally sophomore year. And most important of all, instead of blowing $160 on the gold and silver Nike Air Max 360 IIs just because you saw Jessica Alba "work out" in them in last week's In Touch Weekly, go to a proper running store and have their experts evaluate and advise you on the best shoe for your foot and for your workout routine.
And then, with all the money you've saved, replace your pleated, too-short Banana Republic trousers with that perfect Theory pair you've been eying all season at Saksfifthavenue.com.
1 comment:
Holla for Duke across the booty. I'm guessing you couldn't find a suitable picture of Brown and Michigan State short shorts.
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