freshman door… an epic

Before I get into the meat of this entry, I must define the term “freshman door” for any of my readers who aren’t familiar with it. Picture a set of double doors. We all know of a pair or doors, either at a church, a school, a gym, wherever. The freshman door is the one of the two that is normally locked. It’s called the freshman door because freshman try to open it. Nobody else. (I know this isn’t an inerrant description, but please bear with me, we’ve got a ways to go).

Today Mikey asked me if I’d like to join him for a cycling class at 24 Hour Fitness, because he works there and could get me in for free. Normally I wouldn’t subject myself to such torture, but I’ve been pretty active lately, so I figured I might as well oblige.

We walk in to the gym, Mikey shows his “I work here” card while I’m left to fill out paperwork because I answered “No” to the “have you ever been here before” question (freshman door #1). When I finish falsely filling in the blanks, the people behind the desk inform me that they won’t be taking my papers, but to wait for the one who would.

Soon after a nice man whose name tag read “Mark” walked up. Mark had salesman written all over every fiber of his being, and he asked me all these questions about why I wanted to join the gym. I immediately made it very clear that I had no intentions of joining and that I was only here for a cycling class with my friend, his fellow employee. However, as I said, Mark was a salesman, so he would not be so easily deterred. He proceeded to give me a tour of the facilities, all while telling me that he knew I wasn’t planning on joining, but his manager would be mad if he didn’t show me around. Walking around this facility with an employee all but screams, “Hey, I’m new here, and I don’t work out but I was going to start if all you people don’t mind.” (freshman door #2).

After the tour Mark brought me back to his desk, showed me a bunch of prices for different plans and assured me that it was only because he was supposed to. Then he threw out the big guns. In full infomercial style Mark assured me that if I signed up today, he’d knock off all kinds of fees and I’d leave with the balloon of my choice. I managed to resist his kind offers, which should have come as no surprise to him, because the first thing I said to him all day was that I wasn’t joining. Thanks for trying Mark.

Finally Mikey and I enter in to the cycling (spinning) class room. Unlike the rest of the gym, this room was hot. There was no air flow, and these aren’t the kind of stationary bikes that produce any. I guess those are a thing of the past. These bikes are the Spinner NXT’s, pictured above. Mikey and I waste no time adjusting the height of our seats, handlebars, and cupholders.

The teacher walks in, turns off the lights and leaves only the faint blue lights burning, turns on the remixed not-so-popular hits from the 90’s, and asks, “Is it anybody’s first time today?” to which I raised my hand (freshman door #3). She talked us through our warm up, which includes pedaling while stretching out your upper body.

Here comes the biggest “freshman door” moment of my post-college life. As I was sitting upright, pedaling at a comfortable pace and crossing my arms in a manner unknown outside of local gyms, it happened. My seat just gave out and I was instantly moved from the J setting to what I guess was A. That’s a 10 letter drop! (freshman door #4).

I, of course, bursted out with one very short, loud spurt of laughter – one that is often confused as a cry of pain, not pleasure. Everyone in the class turned a looked at me, other than the teacher whose bike was already facing me. Because of my inadequacy, she had to tell the class to keep going while she stopped, got off her bike, and came to make sure I was okay. Keep in mind, there are probably 4 boys and 20 girls in this class… She politely showed me how to properly adjust (and tighten!) my seat, and proceeded to indirectly kick my butt for the rest of the hour. I walked out of that room sweating like a fat kid, my face as red as it used to be during my rings routines.

In closing, I’d like to thank 24 Hour Fitness for facilitating my afternoon of healthy humiliation, and I’d really like to thank you guys for reading this, the very long first chapter of my book about how to laugh at yourself.