A WORD on the Extreme Importance of Gym-Crushes

The summer I was twenty was also the summer I realized that I was going to have to make exercise a part of my life. At the time I had been learning to make smarter food choices, but being a born perfectionist, I was not seeing the results from this that I had wanted. At the time, I was blessed with a very supportive coworker who told me that she could see it. I remember turning to her and saying (in a very Eeyore-like voice) "yeah, thanks, but I think I'm going to have to add exercise."

What a revelation, Mary! My god, they didn't give you a bachelors degree for nothing! At the time I started slowly, reacquainting myself with my good friend, Jane Fonda. Yes I'm quite serious, Jane in all her glittery eighties glory helped me bring my endurance level back from a sad sad place. I used to do her videos behind closed doors thinking "sheesh, if the 48 year old lady in the last row with the stir-up pants and the bright peach-colored shirt (with matching leg warmers) can do this, why the hell can't I?!" Soon I graduated from Jane to other fun-filled videos such as: MTV Grind, The NYC Ballet Workout, Crunch "Fat Busters" (Latin Style!), and a range of belly dancing tapes featuring either Rania or Veena and Neena. Also, who could forget "Darrin's Dance Grooves." I also had the Ab-Roller (look at me! I'm a human vacuum cleaner!), this weird contraption called a Gym Bar (which also doubles as a weapon if you take it out with you at night and need to go through a rough neighborhood alone), and free weights. Just recently I acquired "pilates exercise balls." I'm still not exactly sure what you do with them. Since they are a lovely royal blue, the joke amongst my outrageously immature friends is that they are my blue balls. My blue balls are made of rubber. I keep my blue balls on a shelf next to my television set. Alright (alright!), I'll stop.

One can only exercise to the same tapes (over and over and OVER again) for so long. So, I began to venture out to the gym. Using a gym for the first time can be a very self-conscious experience. You're there in sometimes not-so-nice clothing, sweating (well, you are if you're getting your money's worth), and (though it PAINS me to admit it) sometimes things jiggle. Though, I must admit that as I sit here writing this, I can honestly say that I've never fallen off a machine. That's surprising, being that this is me we are talking about.

Anyway, I began at the gym at Fairfield U. When junior year ended, I signed up for a summer at New York Sports Club, and this was my first experience at a schmancy gym. And then when my current job was wooing me, they whispered a sweet nothing into my ear about their own on-site (and hallelujah-FREE) gym. Having a large (and free) gym on-site inspired me to start going more regularly than I had ever gone previously. I mean, it was (free) right there, and (free) newly renovated. It was at my job's gym that I also experienced another important first: I started going to classes.

Research states that it only takes 30 days for exercise to become a regular habit (30 days of doing what I ask, but anyway I'm disproving myself, I'll cease). With the gym right there, and with the help of comraderie in the classes, exercising became like brushing my teeth. You don't think about it, you just do it, and if you don't you feel mighty gross. Sure, there are still days when I just don't feel like going, and for those days I've come up with the PERFECT solution: The Gym-Crush.

When you think about it, having a gym-crush is really one of the smartest things a health-conscious young woman can do. All of the sudden, the gym becomes not just about exercise, but also about scoping out guys that she's been noticing for awhile. A girl has to look at something while she's on the elliptical. (This is also why I don't care for the treadmill, because I really am terrified of falling off it. To be a treadmill is a cousin to an escalator. I hate them both! Less scoping can be done on the treadmill.) I have days when I'm feeling lethargic, but I'll grab my ipod and go because, hell, he might be there. To provide you with some concrete examples (I'm all about the concrete examples), I'll relate stories about three of my gym crushes...in the order which they mean to me from least to greatest.

The Intern
Gotta love interns in general. Recently a friend of mine was lamenting over the fact that she's going after an intern and I looked her in the eye and said "Hey. That's what interns are for." And it's true. Monica Lewinsky opened up so many doors for her brethren. This time of year my company is just lousy with interns, and its fantastic. Well lovies, our gym gets interns too! This year we were blessed with a fine specimen. Actually, I must confess that I'm surprised to find myself attracted to him, but I am. There is not a hair on his head, and he has an earring...which makes him look a lot like....Mr Clean. But, as my coworker and fellow gym buddy Carol and I observed, he also has one hot little bod (which really isn't little...at all).

This intern is a gentleman, who might be Southern as well, as I recently heard his accent while he ordered very nearly the same lunch I always get in the pasta line one day. During his first few weeks at our gym, he came to the rescue of a woman in a spin class I was in who had developed a bad foot cramp (newbies, sheesh). Thus I now know how to alleviate pain of a cramp using a jump rope. No, I haven't faked a foot-cramp yet. My crush was sealed last week however, when he traded me his good bike for a spin bike that didn't work and was the only one that hadn't been taken. I would have hurt myself on the slightly out-of-commission bike ( I was too short for it). We exchanged "looks" for the rest of the class....during all those runs, and sprints, and climbs when the tension is just up so tight.....Oh. Hello. Um, moving on!

Gym Crush
Yes, there is an actual person whom I've named Gym Crush, because he is the Original. He has an actual name, but I'm not going to tell it to you because I'm a pain in the arse. I first noticed Gym Crush several months ago. Like me, he has his laundry done at the gym as well, so we are both always visable in our same outfits (sexy, huh, hey! it's clean.) Gym Crush is the only member of this elite list who does not in fact work at the gym, therefore he is perhaps the most useful on this list because I never quite know when he is going to be there. He surprises me sometimes by showing up behind me on the way to the laundry room to pick up his navy t-shirt and red shorts (I wear black pants and a bright pink and gray baseball shirt, because I knew you were wondering). When I came up the gym stairs today, he was right beyond the railing, doing his post-run stretches. We've exchanged many looks as well. Gym Crush runs, fast. Therefore he has my admiration.

In real life we know who each other are as well. True story: If I were sitting at my desk and I fell through the floor, I'd land right next to him (or maybe on top of him, which has its pluses and negatives). Terrible fact is, we're both terribly shy (at least around each other). My crowning victory came about six weeks ago when we ended up at the same Happy Hour together and we spoke and I made him laugh (that's always a good sign), but then I froze up and he froze up, and...sigh. We have 401Ks but we're still mentally in middle school. Well, hopefully there are still a few more chapters left in the tale of Mary and The G.C.

Steve
My crush on Steve is a huge joke between me and Carol, as Steve is our military-like spinning instructor who likes to yell (not at us), and eats nothing but carrots and celery. He is also perhaps about twice my age. Steve and I joke around about me being a spy because I sometimes forsake the afternoon spinning class for the morning spinning class (which starts at SEVEN freakin' AM, which means I have to get out of bed at...oh, it's just too awful! But clearly, I'm hooked). Sometimes I'll write him emails from my desk asking for 25 minute climbs, which he gets a kick out of. Sometimes I'll CC Carol and then she laughs and calls me a home-wrecker. The real draw on Steve, however, is his background, and I won't be making any jokes about this:

I'd been spinning for about seven months or so before I was told that Steve would participating in a charity bike ride for a childhood disease called A-T Ease. It's a genetic disease and the prognosis for those who have it is very bad. There isn't much hope of living past adolescence. I soon after found out that both of his little boys have this disease. Right now, they are both less than ten years old.

I started spinning with Steve in November of 2003 when my friend Victoria convinced me to do a class with her. During that time, and in the time since, I've dealt with all sorts of silly, yet crushing things in my own life. I've been on the bike in front of him after weekends when I thought my world was going to end, and doing a nine minute climb required less effort for me than, oh, say, smiling. Learning his troubles really put things in perspective for me because he gets out there and gives 100% to us day after day in spite of things that might be going on in his own life. My heartaches, when brought side by side to his, are absolutely nothing. And so what are you going to do...I say turn up that tension, and have the climb of your life!

And so you can see why I am always happily making the trek down to our gym, which is four stories beneath the Manhattan street. When there are such gentlemen to be met, you can see why I'm literally running down there! (Ah ha ha, alright, that was TERRIBLE, ugh! Twenty push-ups for that one!) And hey, now hardly ANYTHING jiggles!!