Social Workout

Buns of Steal

Forever Fit: My Geriatric Birthday Workout

Today's free workout: Bethesda Sport & Health, courtesy of a 3 day pass, inadvertently extended to 4 days by date-confused membership guy. As some of you know, yesterday, "24-year-old law student" officially became 25. Man. That sounds old. I'm glad I began my wacky gymhopping pursuit when I was only 24, because clearly such silliness would never be tolerated at my now mature age.

My birthday workout turned out pretty hilariously apropos. The fam was coming over later, and I knew I'd be in the kitchen helping my mom prep all day, so this would have to be a morning gymhop. I got up at 7:30 a.m. and groggily decided on a weights class. Great. Safe... Geriatric.

Buns of Steal

Personal Trainers Who Don't Walk the Walk

Why do you go to the gym? If you're me, the answer is to get into better shape, shed pounds and improve movement and coordination. Why do you hire a personal trainer? Again, if you're me, because you hope that a trained professional will help you achieve these results. So what happens when your personal trainer is chubby, lazy, and has bad form? Let me tell you the tale of my morning bootcamp at Sports Club LA. 

Buns of Steal

The Always Awkward Co-Worker Workout

Today's free workout: The outdoor ropes/confidence course at George Mason University, paid for by my law firm. A partner recently told me, "We try to do a good mix of alcohol and non-alcohol-related events." This was one of the latter, and I must say, I now understand why we are typically plied with alcohol at most firm social events. Because some social events (like sweaty mid-summer workouts) are best kept outside the workplace. And because when your co-workers and superiors — the people who redline your memos, who see you suited up in meetings — see you in sweaty shorts hiked up awkwardly by a harness, dangling helplessly atop a ropes course, it's... just... awkward.

Here's the premise:

Buns of Steal

Rasta Yoga

The gym: YMCA
Location: Dupont Circle
Pass: One Free Week

Oddly enough, I had never actually been to the YMCA. So, when I figured out there was one exactly equidistant from my job and my apartment, I knew it was destiny. I printed out the free pass and headed over, set on taking a Pilates class of some sort. Well, suffice to say that while the actual YMCA building is pretty kick-ass, organization is not the facility's greatest strength. Contrary to the printed schedule, (and contrary to the completely different one offered online), there was no Pilates class that day. Instead, there was yoga. Rasta yoga.

Buns of Steal

Sprints to Lincoln's Knees: An Eerie Run Among the Monuments

Today's free workout: The monuments of Washington D.C. No pass needed. Oddly, I never thought I would do this. But here I am, at 7:15 a.m., sprinting up the steps of the Lincoln Memorial. I've already done hops up the stairs of the American Pharmaceutical Association and run circles around the WWII memorial. But I've saved the best for last. Abe. My favorite memorial by far. He's comforting and majestic, and after I'm done sprinting up the long, long flight of steps that leads to his gargantuan feet, I touch the edge of the pedestal like a kid finishing a relay race. Done!

But before Lincoln, there was the World War II memorial:

Buns of Steal

Working Girl Finds Suburban Gyms Weird

[Wherein our intrepid gym hopper leaves New York for summer job in Washington D.C., and so begins a new phase of her year long mission to work out entirely on free gym passes....  -The Eds.]

6:10 A.M. So this is what it's like.

Pulling up, groggy and unshowered, to a sprawling parking lot. Cursing myself for running the speed camera on the way. There goes $50 on a speeding ticket. Cursing myself for having to get up at 5:45 A.M. because apparently, with the commute, with the hours, with the post-work engagements...this ungodly hour is the only one when I can squeeze in some sweat. 

Buns of Steal

How People Behave in the Sweaty Equivalent of a Park Ave Co-op

Here's what an old boyfriend used to say when something was very easy: "It's like shooting ducks with a bazooka." This was particularly funny when he said it to my lefty, animal-loving roommates. It was even funnier considering he kept an M-16 in my bedroom (long story). The reason for this tangential anecdote is this: Reebok Sports Club blows every other gym in this city out of the water. Okay, the analogy is a little weak, but I guess if you shoot a duck with a bazooka it probably gets blown out of the water. And like the bazooka and the duck, with Reebok Sports Club, it's just not a fair fight.

New York

Rants

Of Civilization and Spin Bike Thieves

At Crunch Fitness, you have to sign up in advance for the classes you want to take. The good part about this policy is that you are guaranteed a spot. The bad part about this policy is that you are not guaranteed a spot.

Yeah, you read that correctly. Apparently, signing up for a spin class does NOT mean you'll be sweating up a storm in your favorite spin class, thanks to the awesome people who sneak into the classes, even when they're full!

It was a Sunday spin class, so I knew it would be popular. I got to Crunch 20 minutes early, on purpose, and put my name on the list. Then I stepped out to pick up a few last minute dinner items at Whole Foods around the corner. Not smart. Sunday, at Whole Foods? I should have known the line would be out the door.

New York

Buns of Steal

Boing! Kangoo, I'm a Human Kangaroo

Today's free workout: Crunch Fitness, Union Square with a 2-week free pass courtesy of killercadoogan. Ok, seriously, Crunch? Ropes, I get. Poles, I can deal with. But making me bounce around, wearing evil ski boots strapped to pogo balls, like a drunk kangaroo, in front of a mohawked instructor who has excitement tatooed onto his face, for an hour? Really, Crunch? Really? Sigh... But boing I did. And honestly, I kinda liked it...except for the giant gashes the boots left on my legs.

New York

Intramural Sports

Find a Pick Up Game Near You

This year marks the first in my entire life where I have lived by a park. And while this may not seem too interesting to you, as a homegrown Texan, parks populated by people are still pretty new and exciting to me, even if said people are lovely, dirty, tattooed hipsters. In honor of parks in general, and my wiffle ball pickup game midnight last Friday, I’ve got an exciting list of intramural pickup sites — from basketball to ultimate frisbee — you can use to rack up some intramural minutes this month, no long-term commitment required.