This morning I cancelled my gym membership. My jeans are a little tight, but I am part of that large percentage of American’s who NEVER uses their memberships. That sneaky little gremlin takes his fifty bucks out of my account every month without me even realizing it. If I actually used it, then I would pay for it. 24 hour fitness was nice enough to give me a refund for the last month, and said I could still use the services. She also offered three free training sessions. I am no dumby. I can clearly see where this is going. Been there, done that. I know how to lift weights properly. I know eating low fat/higher carbohydrate, or higher fat/lower carbohydrate is what helps keep me from being Jabba the Hutt. I don’t need to be suckered in to paying for training I don’t want nor need in the first place. With that being said, she let me off the hook, and said a refund would be placed back to my account within thirty days.
Let’s be real here though. She may have thought I was one of many different types of gym people. There are gym people, and non-gym people, and seasonal gym people: fall and winter, and there are false sense of hope gym people: starting at the end of the year, going hard, then stopping for whatever reason, then last but not least…there is me. The intention of going was good, but actually getting there is like climbing Mount Everest (which I would rather do any day). I just can’t make myself go. Truth is, I hate the gym. I don’t like spinning away on a machine with a forced view of a television set on whatever channel is set for someone else’s liking, and watching a sweat stain grow down my front row view of the gluteal crevice bouncing up and down in front of me. I don’t like running into the bar on the treadmill when I want to go faster, or feeling like I am going to fly off the machine if I start to slack. I don’t like gym mats. I don’t like sharing weights either. I am a total brat about going to the gym. It’s the equivalent to church on Sunday’s as a child which I would act like I was still sleeping as my poor mother attempted waking me multiple times. I just don’t want to go. It’s boring.
Hiking outside is way more appealing, or climbing a tree, or doing sprints through the wooded trails when I feel like it. A yoga class at the local studio is just fine when I am feeling like it (with my own yoga mat). Most recently I copycatted a friend, and bought a rebounder. For those of you scratching your heads, it is a mini trampoline.
You can go fancy with a three hundred to four hundred dollar rebounder with bungee cords, or you can go cheaper with a thirty or forty dollar rebounder. A single working class woman like myself, living in Oakland where the rent is sky high cannot afford to spend hundreds of dollars on something like this. The Stamina is affordable, and good for small spaces as the legs are removable. I un-folded this by myself despite the clear directions not to. All you have to do is put all your weight into it. Just beware, since it can snap back at you. You just can’t be mad if it does, since Stamina already covered their butts and state clearly that it is not the safest idea.
Link: Buy Stamina here
Link: Buy Needak here