ValenciaBlue

When exercising needs a long-term relationship

Gymnasiums are a fickle thing. Easily found, but not enduring. Looking back, many of them moved or disappeared while I was a member. This left me in an emotional lurch.

My history with gyms spans decades. I started going with them  in my early 30s. Working as a news videographer, I carried as much as  45 kilograms (100 pounds) in camera gear on my 72.5-kilogram (160-pound) frame. After looking at my fellow videographers, I could see them struggling with back and weight issues. While I didn’t expect to keep that same job forever, I knew that I needed to take control of the situation. If not, I’d be in the same condition as I aged.

So, a set of weights moved into my home. I purchased how-to books (before everyone had a YouTube channel), which promised to show neophyte fitness seekers how they, too, could look like Charles Atlas. The connection blossomed.

Moving out and up

Some gyms can be clingy. Anyone who has tried to cancel a membership knows that all too well. Even after saying it’s over, it still wants to hang around on your credit card statements. You have to be tough; “it’s not you, it’s me.”

After moving to the city core from the suburbs, I found a spartan workout place. It consisted mainly of free weights and people who grunted loudly when heaving them. After moving to Rome, I found an even more austere place. Just weights, stone floors, masonry walls – and no A/C. It was great.

Returning to the U.S., to attend grad school, there was a gym for the students, which I took advantage of. Being a non-traditional (read: Older) student meant I was surrounded by late teens and twenty-somethings. Also, the gym was located in an old basketball court. So this huge room echoed with the clang of weights, more grunts, and machinery whirs.

Making do with what I have

Then on to another Texas city, where there was a YMCA facility down the block from work, which I used. It closed soon after, but by then I had moved on by changing jobs.

This new position was at a university. And like graduate school, it had a gym for use by students and staff. It was positively plush compared to the previous relationships. The layout included handball courts, a full basketball court, weight  and aerobic machines. The age spread wasn’t so obvious here, as many fellow employees also utilized the facility.

A long-term relationship heads for a sudden breakup

When I retired, I moved to Valencia. The gym down the street was reasonably priced. However, it was showing its age. Some weights were missing, on occasion the equipment broke – with long repair times – and cracked floors. But it was comfortable and I got used to changing up routines and equipment depending on availability and functionality. I reasoned that this helped my overall fitness by switching up the sets before they got too stale and I plateaued physically.

However, after almost five years, I received a break-up letter stating that the management had lost its lease with the city. And it was to be closed in less than two weeks. At that time all memberships were to be cancelled.

A couple of weeks searching ensued before we located another place to work out. It’s smaller, doesn’t have a swimming pool, but does have air conditioning. With the increasing number of heatwaves in Spain, I didn’t realize that it would be such a nice thing to have. I don’t mind a little perspiration, but not so much that I slide off the bench. (Yes, I use a towel between me and the cushion, but it is still sweaty without A/C.)

This could be a temporary relationship. Supposedly the renovations at my previous location will take nine or so months to complete. When done, the former members will be invited back to rejoin and utilize the new-and-improved facilities. By that time, I might not want to break up with my current partner and go back to my ex.