(not the gym in question)It seems I have been labouring under the misconception that I am an articulate woman. I always thought my communication was straightforward and direct. It seems this is not the case.
It seems that when I approach a staff member at a university gym and ask for a fitness assessment, I am actually asking for a Personal Training session. When I say I am smack-bang in the middle of the bell curve for weight/BMI/body fat percentage and am not interested in advice on nutrition, it means I really need to talk to their PT who specialises in nutrition advice. And it's okay, she's a woman, she'll totally get my specific needs. He kindly offered me a blow-by-blow tour of all the great cardio machines. I told him I was interested in strength training and he tried to show me the cardio machines some more. He was then slightly put out when I said I really wasn't interested and lead me past the weights to show me pictures of all of the PTs with their qualifications and big smiles. I stopped listening and nodded and smiled and fumed.
Everything I've ever hated in a gym rolled up into one neat package.
(also not the gym in question)Rows of neatly laid out machines, facing the big glass windows and the outside world. Slim gym bunnies bouncing on stair machines, the guys lifting weights over there. All very clean, attractive and so, not me.
I go to the Sportspark to swim. I could be tempted by the circuit training, except that only happens at lunchtimes and I'm in another part of the city. Everything else they can keep.
All I wanted was a proper, scientific assessment of my fitness. I want to have accurate data so when I start the next part of my training I'll have solid base measurements as a guide. I know, I know I'm odd. But you would think that the university gym, where all of these shiny PTs were trained, would be totally up for the odd.
The PT I met on Tuesday evening, who might have been confused by my request on the phone was straight up about it. He might have thought I was odd, but he was up for the challenge. I'm meeting him for my first session at 7 am Monday and I'm now confident I made the right decision; about the gym and about him.
All I've committed to is three sessions next week. I haven't signed up at the gym or agreed to sign up. I can pay as I go. If I hate it, I will bail PDQ. I see myself doing two weeks with him and then fly solo, with occasional sessions to check my form and progression. Or at least, that's the Plan*.
Tomorrow, I'm off for a Yoga Day. I'm really looking forward to it. I know I'm in safe hands and the thought of spending a day stretching out and meditating is absolute bliss.
* we all know how well my Plans can work out