It was a relief to see two men blow-drying their nether regions in the changing rooms of my new gym. Now, I realize that could sound odd, so bear with me. Back at my old gym, a nuts and bolts kind of place in a gritty part of north London, blow-drying down there was fairly common practice.
I have a particularly disturbing memory of a tall ginger-haired man, golden orange locks down to his waist, one leg up on one of the washbasins, giving his bits the once over with a blow dryer. It's not a ritual I ever thought I'd miss.
But the reason the Chinese equivalent came as a relief, was because up until that point it was the only thing that my London gym and my Beijing gym had in common.
And finding things in common is important in a gym, when all you're trying to focus on is getting through that hour of sweat and pain.
On a basic level, of course, there are lots of similarities. Beijing's gyms have all the fancy equipment you'd find in a gym back in the West. They have the swimming pools, the saunas, those running machines fitted with mini fans and pulse readers, and lycra-clad personal trainers who get you to state your "fitness aims".
The differences are in the details. Three times now I've walked into gyms to inquire about joining and, on every occasion, I've stumbled out at least an hour later after being cornered by "membership consultants" determined to get me to sign on the dotted
line. The idea that I simply wanted to have a quick look around (rather than testing out each individual piece of equipment) and inquire into prices (not haggle over them) was an alien one.
After the third gym visit I felt so beaten into submission the only thing I could do was take the plunge and agree to join.
But of course joining was never going to be that easy. The price displayed on their promotional posters was negotiable, I had seven different membership plans to choose from, and "Rocky", the suitably bulging member of staff designated to my case, seemed in no mood for a quick negotiation. After finally agreeing on price I had to choose my program.
"What are your fitness aims?" asked Rocky, flexing his pecks and chewing on his biro.
"To get fit," I replied.
"Anything else?" he added.
"Well, I suppose I could do with working on the muscles," I said, lamely.
"Yes, no need to worry about fitness, you should concentrate on building your muscles 100 percent. For you, that is the most important thing," said Rocky, grabbing my right arm and squeezing the poor excuse for a bicep.
His point made, he motioned to the contract and, indicated that, after one grueling hour, I should finally sign.
Rocky aside, there is one major similarity that links all gyms. Once I've signed up, handed over the cash and forked out for new trainers, I rarely go back.
Contact the author at thomasmackenzie@hotmail.com
(China Daily 03/07/2007 page15)
