I joined the gym that my sister and her boyfriend to, which happens to be less than a block away from where they live. Talk about convenient! Anyway, I went this morning, but only after making myself wait for the sun to rise, since I had woken up at 6:00 a.m. because of this whole jet-lag thing. But I digress…
This gym is like the one in Rocky: Some treadmills, some bike machines, but the majority of the place is taken up by free weights and big empty rooms that apparently are used for aerobics classes. I hop on a treadmill, and then realize everything is measured in metric units, so instead of plugging in my preferred mph speed, I set it to some random km/h and try to work out the calculation as I’m running. I figured that was sufficient to keep my mind somewhat occupied, when I wasn’t watching the construction pit just outside the window. It was either that or start singing along to “Drop It Like It’s Hot.” Except I don’t know the Korean version, and that’s what’s blasting across the speakers, except for the refrain. It was as weird hearing that weird version as it was yesterday in the department store hearing the Korean-English version of “It’s Raining Men.”
So as I continue my workout, I realize there’s an alarming number of Korean women coming to the gym wearing shiny leotards and leg warmers. Hmmm, odd. Then I notice that before starting their workouts, they all strapped themselves into an old-school fat-jiggler machine. Not kidding. The penultimate was the older woman – say, early 50s – who came in with her shiny leotard, puffy white gym shorts, hot-pink t-shirt, turquoise-blue rope headband, and neon green leg warmers. Between the Abba’s greatest hits album that’s now booming out over the sound system and this get-up, the only thing missing is John Travolta from that ’70s film “Perfect.” Totally surreal.
