Four Reasons Why You Shouldn't Join a Gym

Yesterday I found out that the membership to my local gym is just about a month away from expiring.  This is great for two reasons:  A) I'll be leaving the Cape in a matter of weeks indefinitely, and B)...

I can't stand my gym, as it's been noted more than once.

So here's four reasons why you shouldn't bother joining a gym.  Now, mind you, I'm still advocating for physical fitness and well being, but joining a gym isn't for everyone (or anyone, really).  There's plenty of things you can do OUTSIDE of four walls for physical activity.

1. You'll save money.

Gym memberships are ridiculously overpriced, and that's just walking in the door.  My membership was a locked-in rate of $55/month for 15 months, or something ridiculous like that.  And I really wasn't getting much out of it.  Sure, I had access to TWO facilities, but what's the point when both are terrible?  And again, aside from a few cursory classes, everything you'd want to do at our gym cost money.  Rock wall, massages, training, tanning, etc.  What was our monthly dues going towards?  The NEW RESTAURANT the gym management wanted to put in?!  The parking lot was a fucking mess (I, for reals, watched a pot hole swallow a Jeep Wrangler whole the other day...), how about instead of dumping a bunch of membership cash into what will inevitably be a failed venture (who the hell is going to say to their spouse "hunny, let's try out that new place... you know, at the GYM....), how about investing in a parking lot that won't require me to seek out a new tire and spinal alignment?

My $55 bucks/month will be better served either being squirreled away or .... paying for more ridiculous shit I don't need.  But either way, it's better than going to the mismanagement of someone else's property and business.

2.  You'll save time.

You really have to add it up, but think about it:  How much time are you technically "wasting" at the gym?  I'm not talking about your actual workout, but think of the amount of time it takes you to get over to and back from the gym?  For us, we're fortunate enough to live just a short drive from the main facility.  On nice days, I can run the three miles, work out, and run back, so it's not so much of a waste.  But having to get ready (about ten minutes), get out of our silly-ass neighborhood (five minutes), drive thru traffic (ten minutes, longer in the summer), get inside and into the locker room (five minutes) and on to the gym floor only to have to then warm up (another ten minutes) that's ... let's see... nearly 45 minutes of bullshit JUST TO START WORKING OUT!

Then you have to quantify leaving, which isn't nearly as long, but still, thru summer traffic, on Cape?  Yeah, you won't be home for another twenty minutes.  That's nearly an hour a day, saved, that you could be doing something else.

I realized a long time ago that the bulk of my workouts can be done at home, in my living room.  My current base workout is this:

4x25 push-ups
4x25 sit-ups w/25lb
2/20 pull-ups
planks
and some free weights.  I usually also either cycle or run for a warm up.

So, side from the free weights, I can be doing all of this stuff at home.  I'm only missing a declining bench to do my sit-ups on, which I can supplement by doing other abdominal exercises (bicycle kicks, crunches, etc)  Running is virtually free, and I already own a pretty boss bicycle.  We have a pull-up bar in the bedroom over the closet.  Total time to do all those exercises: 25 minutes, plus another half hour run?  That's 60-sum-odd minutes, roughly the amount of time it would take to go and come back from the gym.

3.  You won't have to deal with dickheads.

My gym is crawling with sweaty goonish guidos, semi-catatonic elderly people, and fat housewives glued to Rachael Ray on Tv.  On the weekends, it's even worse.

There are unsupervised children, and separately, the place is usually unusually dirty at all times.  Working out from home, and not paying money to use this facility will cut your stress levels in half, nearly instantly. 

I went to a yoga class last month and couldn't concentrate because I could hear the assholes thru the divider laughing like jackasses, they were so loud.  Now I'll be able to slap a yoga DVD into the machine in my living room and just sit on my yoga mat in full tranquility.

No longer will I have to wait to use a piece of equipment that some barely literate idiot is hogging up as he sends text messages between sets.  No longer will I have to wipe up someone else's disgusting sweat puddles when they're done with something I want to use.

And the Tvs.... jesus, the Tvs.... Touch one and the whole peanut gallery on the ellipticals flip the F out, that is, when the Tvs are working....

4.  You won't have to deal with broken equipment.

If your gym is anything like mine, you're familiar with the constant disappointment of going to use a favorite piece of equipment only to find out it's broken.  Whether it's a certain treadmill (face it, using a different one feels "weird.") or bench, or weight, or medicine ball, not having that exact piece of gym equipment can make or break a workout.  At our gym, at least 35% of shit is constantly out of order, missing or broken.

My wife really liked doing push-ups with those hand-grip things.  She used them twice before they went "missing."  She found them a few days later, broken, kicked to the side of the room.  Same goes with medicine balls she likes to use to do squats.

For me, I don't like running on treadmills, but I'll put up with it for a few miles before the rest of my workout.  Half of the treadmills, and there's at least ten treadmills at our gym, are either broken, or too fucked up to use correctly: the belts slip, the speed is all messed up giving you an inaccurate reading, etc.  I did three miles the other day when I had the speed set to 7 minute miles, and the read-out told me I ran the mileage in 28 minutes.  THAT DOESN'T EVEN MAKE SENSE!  Great, the treadmills are so fucked up at my gym, they can't even do simple math right.

When you work out in your own home, that's your equipment you using, so that means you'll take care of it, one (it was presumably your money, right?), and two, no one else will come in one time and completely fuck it up while you're away (usually.).  The only downside is space: if you live in a small two-bedroom apartment like we do, there's not a whole lot of room to store equipment. 

For instance, we have some plate weights, some yoga mats, some hand-push-up-grip things, a jump rope, pull-up bar.... and that's about it.  And even I think we have too much shit here, especially without a dedicated room for it.  The one advantage to going to a gym, in this case, it's someone else holding on to all of this shit for you.

So essentially, you're paying for storage.

The Power of The 5K

I was stupid to assume that a 5K race is something to sneer at.

I was training for a marathon, I remember.  That's a true test of endurance that only a very few, select people can not only commit to, but accomplish.  And to accomplish it, for me, meant running a fast time, to try to qualify for the Boston Marathon.

So when I would hear about people training for a 5K... a little rinky-dink community event where there's no real "winner" just a lot of participants, I would outwardly be like "good for you!" but inwardly be like "pfft, let me know how that goes" with the eyeroll.

But I was wrong.  The 5K is a beast of a race.

It's 3.1 miles of hell.  A true test of your abilities as a runner is to see how long you can hold a sprint for.  Right now, the world record for the 5K is something retarded: like 12 minutes or something.  That's over 3 miles in 12 minutes, a runner would have to be running 4 minute mile splits, or roughly 15 mph.

That's Animal-Speed, brother.

Yes, there are those who go out to the annual local 5K and just jog it out, but I'm not one of those people.  No, I'm a competitor, I thrive on burying my opponents, ... so I want to run a really fast 5K.

As we're coming into the "running season" proper with the passing of the Boston Marathon on Monday, the local 5 and 10K circuits are going to be humming all throughout summer.  I have a few local ones already penned into my calender: the first annual Nauset 5K to benefit Nauset Schools, and the Yarmouth 5K that benefits some sort of police officer charity, both next month.

And then there's the hallowed "Beach to Beacon" 10K in Maine, in August, that I'm hoping I'll be able to compete in.  There's some sticky issues involving work.  More on that another time.

But what I'm really gunning for is taking the win, first place, at the inaugural Nauset 5K.  The Greeks were really good at describing the immortality of their heroes: you had to do something worth remembering forever. And taking first place at the first race, ever.... is as close to immortality as I can possibly get.

So I've been training at the 5K distance.  It's not a long distance by any means, and currently I'm running a 17-minute time, on a flat course.  As with all race course descriptions, the Nauset 5K is described as "mostly flat."

If you've ever run a race before, and the description says "mostly flat" expect there to be a gradual incline that's going to make you it's bitch before it makes you pay for dinner.

But the 5K is no joke, really.  While the marathon is a test of physical and cardiovascular endurance, the 5K is a test of strength.  How hard and how long can you run?  Can you run your hardest for just over 3 miles?  Because there's no pacing here, the race isn't long enough to develop a rhythm with your breathing and footfalls.  No, there's just hard running, speed, fast and slow muscle twitch, and trying to suck down enough O2 to keep your muscles from burning themselves out.

I'm really starting to love the idea of the 5K.

What to Expect When Running Your First Marathon

 We're just under a week away from the Boston Marathon, arguably the most prized endurance race in the country.  This year, over 20,000 people will be running from Hopkinton to Copley, which tends to spur people to want to run a marathon themselves.  About half of those inspired by the BM will actually go on to run a full 26.2m course.

So what can you expect?  With the Boston Marathon, everyone running it (legitimately, there are those who will "bandit" run it) has ran at least one marathon course with a "Boston Qualifying" time (the times are different for men and women of different age groups).  The Boston Marathon is the only United States Track&Field-sanctioned event that requires its entrances to "qualify" at least 9 months before the start of the race.

So the bottom line here is, if you want to run "Boston" you have to run someplace else first, and run it fast.

So what can you expect from running a marathon?  I ran my first marathon last Fall after getting a wild hair up my ass.  Previously, I had done a short triathlon "sprint" and the occassional road race (5k, 10k) in high school/college.  I had never dreamed of running a full marathon.  These are my experiences:

Before the race:

-You will lose a toenail, or two, or three.  You're going to be doing a lot of running to train your body up to be able to run consistently for over 26 miles.  In the course of this, your feet are going to take a crap-load of punishment, including the all-too-well-known-by-runners black toenails.  This is what happens when blood pools under the nail, due to frequent trauma.  Eventually, over time the nail will go dead and just fall off.  It's pretty fucking gross actually.

To combat this, get properly-fitted running shoes and socks.  Not only will this help prevent the dreaded toenails of death, but also nasty blisters and other foot injuries.  You can also treat a black toenail by trying to drain it.  A doctor's office visit can get this accomplished, or you can try to do it yourself, but just be aware of possible site infections.

-You will burn out a pair of decent running shoes.  With all the miles you're going to (hopefully) log while training, your current pair of runners will be toast before the race.  You should go out and get a new pair of shoes a few weeks before your race date and start to gradually break them in, while still running in your old shoes.  As the race gets closer, swap out the old shoes for the new shoes.  Your new shoes should have at least 50 miles on them before taking them out on race day.

-You are going to ache.  Part of training for a marathon is self-sacrifice.  Whether it's getting up extra early to get in those precious miles before (and then again after) work, or the punishment on the body, you are going to be sore in the last few weeks up to race.  Listen to your body, treat any pain or soreness seriously.  Don't feel like you have to "train thru the pain" because that's just bluddy stupid.  Knees, feet, hips... anything that takes full impact from road running are going to be sore.  Try to ice and heat problem areas and keep off your feet whenever possible (say, at night when the day is done).


-You will get stared at.  With all the mileage you're logging, expect people to be impressed with not only your appearance but your attitude.  The constant release of endorphins is going to make you a pleasant person to be around, and once you tell people what this new attitude is attributed to, you will be fawned over like a god.  And quite possibly, secretly feared.


During the race:

-You will carb-load like crazy.  The night before and the morning of, you will stuff so much bread in your mouth, you'll likely burst.  Depending on your level of fitness, how fast you run, etc, you can expect to expend about 2500-3500 calories during the race.  Taking in some protein wouldn't be a bad idea either.

-You will be thrown into a carnival-like atmosphere.  Races now-a-days, particularly marathons, are becoming more and more like roving block parties than races, as more people of different ability levels are joining in on the festivities.  You will see people dressed in costumes, vendors selling shit (outside of the expo) throngs of people laughing it up.  Hopefully this relieves some of the pre-race jitters you might feel, but it could add to them too.  It just depends on who you are, mentally.

-You will be passed.  As the race starts, you will be passed by people left and right.  Just let them go.  In turn, you will be passing people, left and right.  The point is, you're only out there racing against one person, and that's you.  As the field of runners spreads out along the course, you'll start seeing less and less people, and soon you'll feel like you're just out on another training run.

-Don't feel like you have to take water at every station.  There are going to be "comfort stations" all along the route, usually at every 5K.  They will offer everything from water and Gatorade, to bananas and bathrooms.  Taking water (I never take the Gatorade or Cytomax because whatever you take will inevitably end up on your face, and who wants to be covered in sticky shit on a long distance run?) will be a relief, but it will also make you heavy and want to pee.  Personally, I only took water at every third station, and even then it was just a sip or two before heaving my cup at the nearest waste can.  If offered water and you don't want it, just politely decline or just keep running by.  The volunteers understand.

-You will see humanity at its worst.  I'm not saying you'll witness war crimes or anything.  But you will see people pissing, puking, shitting every where.  You will (hopefully) leap over puddles of throw up, run thru a cloud of farts, and maybe even see someone collapse from fatigue.  Just try to ignore it and keep running.

-You will want to give up.  Everyone hits a wall at some point, but what's important is not giving in.  Once you stop, your race is over.  You will never regain the same stride or speed or strength.  You just have to fight thru it.  For me, my wall was at the 15th mile.  I was really considering calling it quits when I was running over a series of hills out in the middle of no where by myself.  I just had to dig in and think of something else.  I thought: I don't have 11 miles to go - I've run 15, don't quit now.  And it was enough to get me over that hump.

-You will run to the sounds of your own breath and foot falls.  A lot of UST&F-sanctioned events don't allow iPods (check with race organizers for specific rules, some do, some don't.  But most don't.).  So get used to running without the aid of your "power playlist."  Yes, you will see some racers skirting around this rule, and good for them, but when you run a marathon with just the soundtrack of nature and your fellow runners around, there's something magical about that.  Give it a try.

-In the last miles, some perky idiot in a costume will sprint past you.  But don't be alarmed, he or she is in one of the many relays your race is conducting concurrent to the marathon itself.  A lot of marathons will have these smaller events going on around the actual "big race."  Most marathons will host a half marathon, 10K, 5K and various relays.  Personally, I fucking hate these relay assholes.  Five guys dressed up like characters from the Wizard of Oz (true story) will be running along side you the entire time, only to pass to the last guy on the last series of mileage (usually a 10K a-piece) and sprint towards the end, when you're completely depleted of life and energy? That sucks.  Just ignore them, and think to yourself: I'm running 5 times greater a distance than that (literal) pack of assholes.

Post-race:

This is the look found on most finisher's faces.

-You will be disgusting.  Congratulations, you just ran your first marathon!  As a reward for your endurance and strength, you get the pleasure of looking, smelling and feeling like roadkill!  Expect to be utterly gross when you cross the line.  You'll have spit (and maybe some puke) all over your face, salt-crusted clothes, and smell like death.  I remember coming up to the finish line and seeing a green and gray haze over everything, no lie.  You'll need a solid hour-long shower, trust me.

-Treat your feet.  Yeah, you just ran a marathon, so give props to the guys who got you from point A to point B, and soak them in some epsom salt when you get home.  Relax, rub them down, try to stay off them for the next 24 hours if possible.

-The soreness will catch up to you.  You'll be flying so high off the endorphins that you won't realize how much pain your body is in for probably a day or two.  Sure, you'll be stiff and achy, but the pain won't hit til probably two days later.  Just pop some Tylenol and drink lots of water over the next week to help minimize the muscle tension.


-Your body will do some funky shit.  Running your first marathon will have adverse affects on your body that you might not be aware of right away.  Just keep an eye out for anything out of the ordinary and if it lasts longer than a week or two, consult a doctor.  For me, I had trouble holding my pee (TMI, I know).  It wasn't that I was pissing myself, I just didn't get that usual, gradual urgency that I needed to go take a leak over a period of time.  Instead, I would be hit with a sudden urge and needed to find a toilet real quick.  Your body might react a similar way.

-You will want to get back out and go run ASAP.  Don't.  You need to give your body some recovery time, even if you feel "fine."  Take a week off, you earned it (along with a really calorie-high meal, greasy burger and french fries?  With a beer or nine?).  When you do start up again, take it slow and don't do any crazy mileage for your first month.  Keep an eye open for smaller, local races like 5Ks and use those to keep your edge sharp.

-Sign up for your next race.  You're now a marathoner!  After some time has passed, sign up for another race and see if you can't (if you didn't already) qualify for the holy of holies, Boston.  Check out their website for age and gender-specific qualifying times.  If you did, in fact, qualify on your first go (it's not impossible) you should be receiving something in the mail from the Boston Athletic Association within a few weeks.

They Make Yoga Pants for Men, Right?

"Do they make yoga pants for men?"  I found myself asking this as my wife and I stood next to our dryer, and she fished out a pair of tight-but-comfortable looking capris made out of sweat-material.  I was dressed in essentially my pajamas; green Nike warm ups, slightly oversized electric blue t shirt from EMS with a pair of hiking boots on it with the words "Hikers do it in the woods" - perfect for I felt at that moment: an outsider about to undertake a rather large step from his comfort zone.

Candidly, I had never thought of myself to be the type of person who would wind up sitting on a tiny, thin-ass mat in a room with other people with the lights turned on low and New Age music softly humming over the speakers, trying to push my (obscenely rigid) body into the shape of the letter "W."  While I consider myself to be an athlete, I never took yoga serious.

We had decided, earlier in the week, that we were going to try one of the free yoga classes my gym/health spa/beehive of obnoxious children provides on Saturday mornings.  This want came to mind after sitting thru a lecture on my "Health and Fitness" class regarding a person's level of flexibility and how that's relative to health concerns as they age. 

I do not want to be a bent, crippled, barely-ambulatory little old man at 40 or beyond.  With the level of punishment I put on my body with my endurance training, I need something to help keep my body from deteriorating faster than it already is (for instance, my left knee has really been bothering me lately, and I don't even want to talk about my feet... think "Baghdad 2003" and you'll have an idea.).

So yoga seemed like a fun idea.  Something new, something I could see and find benefits in.  But like anything I'm new to, I tend to be really awkward.

My wife has gone to several different yoga classes over the years, so she knew what she was doing.  The morning of, we arrived early with our mats, in order to get a "good spot" in the studio.  She started to get out of her clothes (a hoodie, uggs) and padded around the hardwood floor barefoot.  I stared down at her feet.

I had to be barefoot for this?

Like I said just a second ago, I don't like my feet.  Actually, I don't like feet, period.  But I'm really self-conscience about MY feet, because, well, their pretty gross.  While training for my marathon last summer/fall, I burnt out three toenails.  One grew back, the other two, on my two big toes, are... well, I can't think of a polite way to describe them.  It's just really gross.  Now, a bunch of strangers would have the pleasure of looking at my mangled, rotten feets (later that night, when I explained my apprehension to my wife, she looked at me and said "we were in a low-lit room, in the back, and you were worried about people seeing your feet?  Who are you?!).

We were alone for only a few minutes.  We waited out in the waiting area on the other side of the retractable studio wall and played on our phones while an all Kenny Loggins' 80's Movie Soundtrack (It's All Right, Danger Zone, Holiday Road, Foot Loose - seriously.  But I can't complain, since this happened, I've add a "Kenny Loggins" station on my Pandora) pumped from the speakers over our heads.  My gym (both locations) lately has been playing music incredibly loud, even when there are minimal people around.  It was 830am on a Saturday.  The only people in the facility were my wife and I, and two employees.

Soon tho, a few elderly-looking women came into the yoga room and we entered behind them, sitting on our mats while these "regulars" chit-chatted.  We stretched... suddenly I felt as if I was getting ready for some sort of competition; warming the body up to perform in front of other people.  To perform better, actually.

By 9am, the instructor, a woman named Jane who had to be at least 60, set the lights low, closed the doors and got everyone centered.  We all sat Indian-Style on our mats with our eyes closed, trying to focus, meditate, align chakras- whatever.  The low, New Age music played, inter-twine with the "Caddyshack" soundtrack just on the other side of the divider we were sitting next to.

Because of this, it was really hard for me to concentrate.  At one point, I was doing some sort of stretch wrong with my back and legs, much to the ire of my wife, who shot me a nasty look from her mat, as if to say "you look like an idiot, don't you know left from right?!"  Also, I was unaware I was to keep my eyes open during the class.  I spent probably 2/3s the class with my eyes shut, only taking peeks to see what everyone else was doing, because I didn't want to be doing something completely different and look anymore like an idiot.

The class went on for 90 minutes, it was soothing in parts; At one point, one of the students sneezed so hard it sounded like a scream, which jarred the shit out of me.  But my mind started to wander around the one hour mark (like an asshole, I had kept my watch on, and was taking glancing checks here and there); I started to think about the upcoming Red Sox/Yankees game, and essentially, this article.

I ended up leaving relaxed in the end, but not terribly challenged.  The largest challenge for me was the wafer-thin divider, as it blocked little-to-no-noise.  As the morning picked up for the gym, the lobby continued to grow rowdier; Kenny Loggins giving way to some assholes guffaw-ing it up hard a mere 15 feet away.

I've sort've come to the conclusion that I would like to make yoga a regular once-a-week thing to intermingle between my running and strength training workouts. 

At the same time, my fat, out of shape, 19 year old self from ten years ago (complete with his patchy-gross goatee and pizza sauce-stained t shirts) wants to kick my ass.  But then again, he never had a body like mine.

Unethical and Underhanded

I know I said I wouldn't bitch about my gym anymore, but really, as soon as someone says something along those lines, you might as well peg them as a total liar.  Because, here we go again:

My 15 month gym membership is nearly up and I'm coming to this cross road where I have no idea if I'm going to continue to pay the $55 bucks a month to belong to a gym that treats it's members (and I mean, the core members, the people who actually come to the gym to workout) like crap.

Last night, as my wife and I were heading in for our typical Friday night workout, we were met with this shotgun blast of disgusting and gross behavior, just running amok around the gym facilities:

Children.  Hordes of children.  And balloons.

My wife has a rather bad latex allergy, so balloons, while seemingly harmless helium-filled orbs of celebration, can literally be a death sentence for her.  The entire ceiling was just covered in the local school's colors, black and gold.  Inside, it was like 6th grade prom.

'Tweens (children not exactly in their teens, but older and bigger than most elementary school kids) were running around, crashing into things and people, dancing to the Black Eyed Peas, ... everything you could imagine from a Robin Williams movie from the mid-1990s.  Obviously, to a young couple with zero desire to have children, this was very off-putting.

"You know when you have those feelings when you get in the front door, and immediately don't want to do your workout?" I ask my wife over the din as we cautiously make our way to the front desk to check in.  She's notorious for getting all the way out to the gym, in the doors, only to want to turn back because she doesn't feel like working out.

"You're having one of those moments, huh?"  She says back.  I nod.

We wait at the front desk for an employee to "beep" us in with our membership fobs, but no one's paying any attention to us.  There's one employee way off to the side having some sort of deep conversation with a parent who's just ... caught up in this whole whirlwind of screaming pre-adolescence.  The poor woman looks shell shocked; a victim of some sort of terrorist market bombing.

Eventually, after leaving enough time for someone to notice us, I said "fuck it" and swiped our cards for us.  We grabbed towels (we were going to TRY to swim...) and made our way downstairs to the gym proper, while avoiding more balloons and sugar-high kids.

"But seriously, let's get out of here," I try again, as making our way down the stairs becomes an effort; the stairway is clogged with loitering, unsupervised children.  We're able to look into the pool area and we see it's awash in splashing kids.  No laps for us tonight.

We honestly thought there'd be no way kids would be allowed to run amok downstairs in the actual gym area, but we were wrong.  Tubby kids in the pilates room throwing swiss balls at each other like over-sized dodge balls, children running at full speed across the gym floor, one of the racket ball courts converted into a giant inflatable bouncehaus.  A few hearty (and presumably single) souls were trying to tough it out, and try to workout despite the constant distractions, but you could tell they weren't enjoying themselves.  They were annoyed; one guy just sat on a bench with a numb expression on his face, earbuds in, watching children climb all over the ellipticals. 

We got about halfway to the lockerrooms when I tried again, to dissuade my wife from actually going thru a workout that evening.  She finally relented when a pudgy 11 year old came flying around the corner where they keep the floor mats, with what looked like fresh puke smattered on his oversized cheeks.  From the far corner of the gym floor, where the rockwall is located, we could see children dangling upside down in some sort of crude version of the Spider-Man: Turn Off The Dark play.

We about-faced and tossed our towels on to a nearby desk, like "fuck it."  We weaved back thru the crowds of ungrateful brats and stunned proctors.  No one seemed to notice that we were leaving within five minutes of arriving.

Last night wouldn't have bothered me so much if there had been at least a 24 hour heads up, some sort of printed-off notice that said "hey, on Friday night, we're hosting a middle school dance and function, you might not want to be here for it, thanks, the Willy's staff."  Something like that, printed out and taped to the wall over the water fountain would've sufficed.  Nothing crazy, no mass emails, no phone calls, nothing.  Just a simple white sheet of paper with those words on it.

It took me less than ten seconds to type that sentence out.  Printing might've taken all of 30.  Taping on to a surface within a high-traffic area, maybe a minute.  Seriously.

But no heads up was given.  Literally, we were blindsided by this turn of events.  Did the Willy's staff really think for a second people, due-paying members, would want to workout in this type of environment?  How bad is this facility hemorrhaging money to rent out the whole establishment on a Friday night (see also: failed restaurant-in-the-middle-of-winter-on-Cape idea)?

To make matters worse, the management at Willy's (in Eastham, MA by the way.....) has been stacking it's reviews on the business web aggregate site "Yelp" recently.  By "stacking" the reviews, I mean, hiring people who may have never stepped into the facility to write bogus glowing reviews in an attempt to raise the business's web clout.  You see, Google ranks it's search listings for businesses based off of reviews from sites like Yelp, TripAdvisor, etc.  The better the overall reviews, the more frequent and more towards the top of the search pile the business will appear.

For over a year, there had only been three reviews for Willy's Gym, the best was a 4/5 star rating from some gay dude out on San Fran.  The other two (one being mine) were mediocre.  Suddenly last week, a slew of ultra-positive, rather vague reviews from Oregon of all places, started to pop up on Willy's Yelp site (not to mention "new" Yelp pages, stacked with positive reviews, to help off set the original site listing's less-than-stellar rating).  The reviews are pretty much identical, from people whom have reviewed no other businesses on the site, and have no real profiles.

Thus, a rather unethical practice, attempting to dope the casual summer tourist into thinking Willy's Gym is worth the 20 dollar day pass. 

I can only hope that people will be able to see thru the bullshit.

March Run Mix

Every month I'm going to try to share with you a playlist of songs that I enjoy running to/with (?).  Feel free to cop these where ever you buy music, and then immediately turn around and hit the road.

 

The Catalyst, Linkin Park:  I like the slow build of this song, especially on early morning runs.  You can see yourself pushing off from your starting point just as the choppy-techy beats drop in.  A very affirming song to start out any distance running.

Resistance, Muse:  Another slow builder, equally good for a playlist headliner.  The soft vocals eventually give way to a powerful ballad that will pull you down the street by your heart strings.



Rolling in the Deep, Adele: A funky, disco-y track that builds quickly just as the heavy thumping of the drums kick in.  Great for pace work.  When I ran to this the other day I found my feet hitting pavement in time with the beat.

Drumming Song, Florence + The Machine: Another beat-heavy track, when this comes up in my buds it will usually put a smile on my face, which makes me a better runner, for some reason.  And what's better than the line of the refrain "sweeter than heaven, hotter than hell?"  That usually sums up most of my runs, actually.

 

Viva la Vida, Cold Play:  Ok... admittedly.... I have this song on my iPod, but that doesn't make me gay!  It's a good track.... the song's about how this guy first obtains power and then loses it.  You know what, you're not even paying attention to this anymore, you've come to your own conclusions.  Fuck it, I like running to it.

Pumped Up Kicks, Foster the People: What's a better song to run to than one about gnarly shoes and out running guns and bullets?  ...Because I can't understand anything else the vocalist says in this song.



Wolf Like Me, Tv on the Radio:  Another beat-heavy track.  When I listen to this song on my runs,  I feel like I'm being chased thru the woods.


Handlebars, Flobots: Kind of a braggart's song, I like running to this song when I'm feeling slow and just pacing out the last few miles of my run... because the last 1/3 of the song it picks up quick and hard.  Try not to mind the political undertones.




Harder, Better, Faster Stronger, Daft Punk:  The quintessential techno-workout track, the French Robotic DJ-Duo give us four goals that we should each strive for in our workouts.


Bad Romance, Lady Gaga:  Techno-y, thumping, full of energy.  Just what you need at mid-run.  (True story: I was running on a treadmill at the gym at my old job and thought I was alone.  I had plugged my iPod into the stereo system and Gaga's "Boys Boys Boys" started to play loud over the speakers, and since I was on the treadmill I couldn't just hop off and change songs.  One of my bosses ended up walking in and called me a "fag.")



The Beast and The Harlot, Avenged Sevenfold:  A fast, hard, 80's speed metal track from a band that was born around the same time Axel Rose took his first hit of cocaine.

Animal I Have Become, Three Days Grace: We should each strive to become a fucking animal during our runs or workouts.  When I'm running and I hear this song, I picture myself turning into a lion and chasing down tasty-ass gazelles. 



Battery, Metallica:  Easily the greatest song they ever wrote and performed.  Powerful, epic... this song is like the battle scenes from Gladiator and Lord of the Rings, combined.

Lose Yourself, Eminem: This song should really be at the top of the list, not towards the bottom.  This is the song I listen to before every competitive event I run in.  Just the spoken-word beginning is enough to get me ready to set a PR.



No Love, Eminem featuring Lil' Wayne: Another powerful song that builds.... it covers all the bases: Beastmode, never breaking stride, monopoly boards.... I hear this song and I instantly feel stronger.

 

Hell of a Life, Kanye West:  A track about what it's like to marry a porn star, I just really like running to the beat and hook.

Power, Kanye West:  A tribal track, theme music for superheroes.


Monster, Kanye West featuring Rick Ross, Jay-Z and Nicki Minaj:  The first three words of this song are all I need to hear before I go run a sub-six minute mile:  Bitch, I'ma Monster.



Better & Better, KRS-One, featuring Pee-Doe:  A dope beat to run to, and KRS makes a valid point that hip-hop really was better in the 90s.


All of the Lights, Kanye West featuring Rhianna:  When I hear this song towards the end of my runs, I picture winning a championship, victory, completion.



My Body, Young the Giant:  This is my official training anthem:  "My body tells me no, but I won't quit, cuz I want more."  Perfect.


Hurt, Johnny Cash: While some of you might bristle at the idea of running to this song... on a clear morning, I can't run and NOT listen to the man in black's tragic voice and what it says.



Pain, Jimmy Eat World:  This track, about pain killer addiction, was used by NBC's Sunday Night Football for it's opening montages.  I'm thinking someone doesn't listen to lyrics down at NBC....

All I Do is Win, Ludacris, featuring T-Pain, Rick Ross and Snoop Dogg:  What else do you need to know about this song?  It's called ALL I DO IS WIN.  Perfect for finish lines and post-race winner's circles.

 

Empire Ants, Gorillaz featuring Little Dragon: a cool down track that pumps it up towards the back half.  Love the chick's voice.

We Made It, Busta Rhymes featuring Linkin Park: At the bottom of your playlist you need a song that reaffirms all your hard work.  Use this one.  "I'm a symbol of greatness, call a nigga Morpheus" routinely plays thru my head, post workout.

Me and My Buds

I workout a lot.

While doing this, I like listening to music.  While I'm sure this is normal for many people, I seem to have an issue that crops up every few months:

I go thru earbuds like crazy.

I'm the only person I know who has this problem; I shit out a pair of those tiny little buds that people stuff into their ears to tune out the world just about quarterly.  My last pair (or rather, my current pair, as I've yet to replace these) led me to believe that they'd be the last ones I'd have to purchase for a while, because they're water-proof.

Why does being water-proof matter?  I sweat a lot, especially if I'm doing high intensity cardio (say, running or cycling great distances).  The sweat gets into the buds and fries them out.  I can tell when they're about to go because the sound gets really static-y or I just lose sound in one (or both) of the buds.

My current set, H2O Audio's Surge 2G water-proof earbuds aren't starting to go bad in the buds, but in the jack stem, causing me to have to reach down and twist it every so often or deal with static and cut out.

So, I figure since I've had so many different pairs of earbuds in the last few years, I'd review some of the better ones for you, just in case you're dealing with some of the same problems that I am.

Apple Ear Buds

Everyone is familiar with these white "give-a-way" buds that come with every iPod for the last ten years.  General complaints: poor sound quality and fit.

What's great about them:  Relatively cheap if you know where to buy them (say, Amazon.com, if you search the term "OEM" followed by what Apple product you're looking for, earbuds, charging cables, etc) you can get them in bulk.

What's not so great about them:  If most of your audiophile friends complain that there's not much too the sound quality on these guys, they're right.  Try a pair of these, and then listen to the exact same song with any other brand and you'll hear the difference.

Best for: low-to-moderate physical activity.  From listening to music or watching a video on your iPod or iPad on the couch, to walks and light gym work.

Estimated Use Life: with the prescribed above activities, these should have at least a year shelf life, however, if you're more active on a more consistent basis (marathon runner in training, for example) or you sweat in buckets all the time, expect to get between two and four months out of these guys before they're cooked.

Personal experience:  Sound quality aside, I have no real beef with these except the price Apple demands for them.  I think they fit my ears fine (others have complained about this aspect as well), however with my level of activity, I will only use a pair of these if I can't find a more durable set.

($29.99 @ Apple.com, $10-$15 @ Amazon.com)


Skullcandy "Smokin' Bud" Ear Buds

These guys are nearly as ubiquitous as the Apple earbuds.  Again, quality-wise these aren't your best bet, but they're cheap so you won't feel the pinch too bad if you burn thru a pair in a matter of months.

What's great about them:  Decent sound quality (better than Apple's) and you can't beat the price of less than 15 bucks and they come in a variety of colors.  Buy in bulk.


What's not so great about them:  You get what you pay for.  A high intensity work out will kill these things in weeks, not months.  Often times they only come with one set of rubberized "custom-fit" ear pieces, that may or may not ride comfortably in your ears.

Best for: Any workout, as these things will be toast no matter how much or how little you workout. 


Estimated Use Life: A few weeks to a few months, depending.


Personal Experience:  I've had a few pairs of these over the years and my experience has always been the same.  They're "ok" and "good enough" to get me thru a period between having decent to really nice buds.  They're place holders.  However, I find the fit on these to be bothersome, as the rubber inserts don't fit my ears all too well.  While running, they'll sometimes fall out.

($11.99-$18.99 @ Amazon.com or any local retailer)


Rocketfish EHP-11

A middle of the road brand, Rocketfish make all sort of audio components like bluetooth stereo equipment and car gps mounts.


What's great about them:  Came with about a dozen different sized rubberized ear buds so that you could find a "perfect fit" for your individual ear, and a magnetized fob to coral the extra-long chord.


What's not so great about them:  With all the choices in little rubber pieces, none of them fit my ear properly.  Plus the sound quality is affected by the gigantic 1970's stereo jack stem.

Best for: low intensity activity, as the jack stem and extra long chord tend to get in the way.

Estimated Use Life:  I got about a solid month or so out of these before they got chucked, however, with the level of discomfort I experienced, I wanted to get rid of them sooner, but couldn't justify doing so with what I spent.


Personal Experience:  Like I said, I felt a high level of discomfort from these, plus the buds were constantly falling out of my ears!  The extra long chord and jack stem kept getting in the way as well (that magnetic fob is useless), leaving me no other choice but to toss these before they started to crackle and go static-y.

($29.99 @ Best Buy, $5-$20 @ Amazon.com)


H2O Audio Surge Ear Buds

Water-proof earbuds!  Olympian Michael Phelps is on the packaging and website!  For what they're charging these must be the answer I'm looking for!

What's great about them:  They're water-proof.  That being said, they should be sweat-proof as well, which was the primary reason I bought them.  They also come with an assortment of rubber pieces to custom-fit into your ear, and of the bunch tested, H20 Audio's were the only pair to give me something close to a custom fit.

What's not so great about them:  Extra long chord, long jack stem (sound familiar?).  However, this is because these buds are designed to be used in a pool with a special water-proof jacket for your iPod or iPhone.

Best for:  Pool work (which I've used them for as well) or any high intensity cardio workout.   However, underwater the sound is terrible.  The buds, if not seated just right before pulling the swim cap over your ears, will pinch and chaffe the insides of the ear.  Keep them for running and cycling.

Estimated Use Life:  I got about 6 months out of these before the jack stem started to go out on me.  Within that 6 months, I trained for and completed a marathon, plus have worked out at least four days a week for at least 90 minutes a session.  Not bad.


Personal Experience:  Like I just said, I put these guys thru the ringer and they came out alright.  The jack stem gets in the way and now I believe it's on the way out, causing static-y feed back in the buds.  But for what I paid, I'd like to have gotten at least a full year out of these guys.

($45-$60 depending on exact model, @ Amazon.com)

My Gym (and Why I Hate It)

People who know me know I hate my gym.  It's because it's not really a "gym" so much as it's a "health club" with an elderly clientele, juice heads, and children running around unsupervised.  

I go here, because it's local and they have a pool, which for me is kind of a big deal.  Laps are the best kind of workout, second being running.  So, for one last time, here's a breakdown of everything I hate at my gym, and why:


The Patronage:

Like I said a second ago, there's just this.. wide swath of people that go to my gym.  Half of the week, I go in the mornings, and I'm forced to deal with the elderly.  Old woman sitting on stationary bikes who bark at you for touching the TV channel, lest they miss one second of Ellen or Rachael Ray.  If they're not on the bikes, they're getting in my way when I want to use equipment.  And they're SO SLOW!  Like, all I want to do is just rip out four sets of ten reps, in under five minutes... but then they just sit on the equipment, while their bored fitness trainer looks on, or texts his girlfriend, or watches the tv, inattentive to their client.  If I try to budge in, even politely, I'm met with resistance. 

The old ladies like to chit-chat with each other too.  True story:  the other day, I was over by the free weights, where no little old ladies have any business being in the first place, when, standing in front of the rack of weights, two old bettys are gabbing about how fucking unbelievably precious their grandchildren are.  I had had enough by this point, and carrying two 60 lb dumbbells, walked between them and set down my load.  They both looked at me as if I just kicked a puppy down a flight of stairs.  I pulled my earbud out and looked one of them dead in the eyes:

"This is not your living room," I told her.  Stuck my bud back in and went back to my workout.  They left shortly thereafter.

The men are no better.  I walk into the men's locker room and there's no less than 6 or 7 pairs of naked, old, hairy balls dangling around.  At what age do men just stop being modest around each other?  Big fat hair-covered bellies and asscracks, the smell of icyhot and farts lingers.... inevitably there will be one in one of the toilet stalls, letting loose bladdery gas as he bares down.  And they all just stand around talking about the most absurd shit!

"Yup, that Obama there ain't been born in this country, no sir, they can't even find a dat-gum birth certificate..."

"He ain't MY president...."

"Jesus didn't die for me to have no black president," and so on.  I just keep my head down and gear up and try to get out of the forest of dicks as quickly and quietly as possible.

The evening sessions are no better.  Low-educated juiceheads get out of their day jobs and clutter up the place with their tiny wife-beater undershirts, bulging muscles, the smell of Hungarian Horsecock Steriods and the all-too-quick-to-point-out attitude about how you're doing your workout "all wrong."  They sit on benches or stand in the middle of the gym on their cell phones, either texting or shouting into them at arms length.

While they're being boobs, they're monopolizing the free weight area, the benches, the machines.... they're like fucking gremlins that got fed after midnight, they just spawn everywhere, shouting at each other from across the gym floor:

"AY JIMMY!  LOOK AT ALL THIS WEIGHT I CAN LIFT!  HAVE YOU BEEN JUMPIN' ROPE LATELY, YOU'RE LOOKING REAL CUT!  NO, I'M TAKING A NEW WHY ISOLATE!  THANKS FOR NOTICING!"

I wish, for creativity-sake, I was making most of this up.

Then you have the unattended children that just run amok all over this place.  Dad's with "weekend duty" will bring the kids to the gym for an hour while they workout.  The kids, unchecked, throw bosu balls around, run and trip on shit, run and run into you, destroy equipment by not using it correctly, and NO ONE SAYS ANYTHING!  I grabbed a small 9 year old boy last weekend by the arm after he was just banging on objects with a light dumbbell and asked him where his parents were.  He pointed across the gym where a sweat-covered middle-aged man was sitting on a machine, sending a text to someone.  I marched the child over and presented him to his parent.

"Unless you're planning on paying me for babysitting duties, watch your own kid," and left it at that.  I'm sure the asshole got indignant about the whole thing.

The Lack of Respect for Equipment:

It goes so much further than just not wiping down the equipment when you're done using it (which no one does, except me and my wife) but not putting equipment back to it's proper place or even cleaning up after yourself.

The locker room is usually a hot mess by the time I'm leaving in the evenings; used towels everywhere, paper towels in clumps by a trashcan because people were too lazy to follow up on their missed throw, loose gear just strewn about.  The airduct above my locker was last wiped of dust when George Bush was president.  The first one.

If I want to take a soak in the jaccuzzi, I can only do so if I'm wearing a condom and a cork up my ass.

Broken equipment stays that way for weeks at a time, no matter how many times my wife or I tell the staff that something's not working correctly.  Benches are torn and there's a sizable hole in the middle of the freeweight section begging for someone to step into it under load and destroy their knee or ankle.  All of these things have been brought up at one time or another.  The best the staff can do I guess, is leave a little computer-printed sign that says "out of order."

People pee in the pool.  I know this because I'll be swimming and find myself in the middle of a murky, warm section of my lane where someone just left.  Cocksucker.

Also, the parking lot looks like a moonscape.  I'm starting to get curious as to what my $55-a month membership fee is going towards?

And rack your fucking weights when you're done with them!  Wipe down the sweaty puddle you left on the goddamn bench you were using!  I'm here to do MY workout, not yours, and I don't get paid to clean up after you!

Jesus.

The Cost:

Lastly, my membership is $55 dollars a month, like I just said.  For that amount of money, I should be getting a goddamn complimentary handjob every time I walk in the place. 

Yes, there's a pool, and yes there are classes I can sign up for, but like I said in the last section, the equipment is very slow to repair, and the place is usually filthy.  Given the bulk of my workout can be done at home (minus swimming laps) it's very frustrating to pay the amount I'm locked into for the next year.  The place can be better.  There has to be 500 people going there a day, total.  That's 500 people paying roughly 60 bucks a month.  Do the math, improve the place.

I'm going to open my own gym one day and membership fees will be assessed based off body fat % and composition.  The less you have, the less you pay.  The tvs will be locked on either the Weather Channel or ESPN.  No bitching, no grunting, no yelling, no children, no cell phones, no naked old men.  It will be bare bones and members will be expected to sign up and train for a local athletic competition within 3 months of starting a membership, or their privileges will be revoked.

This is my gym.