Only in Paris. That is the thought that comes to mind when I reflect on my day at the gym yesterday. First of all, congratulations to me for finally getting a gym membership! And not to mention I did it all by myself! I stumbled my way through, but eventually ended up with the student rate (200 euros less!) gym membership.
I met with my trainer (everyone gets one) and stumbled through that as well. He was super patient with me. He asked what I wanted done and he somehow came up with an exercise program for me. I started on the step machine (as if i don’t already climb enough in this city of no elevators). He made me increase a level every three minutes. Luckily I was only on it for fifteen minutes before he had me switch to the treadmill. He set me to a level ten. I am not sure if this is different than in the states, but I was pretty much running fast. He told me to run at that level for fifteen minutes. At around twelve minutes I thought I was going to die since I haven’t worked out forever. While he wasn’t in the room I turned the level down to a fast walk. Oh he caught me! He came back in and said, "jogging!" and turned my treadmill back up to level 9. Nice guy. He let me go a level down. However, he made me do an extra two minutes for cheating. After the treadmill he had me get on the stationary bike. All was well. I had to stay above 70 kph, but that was no problem as I watched the MTV videos with all the skinny girls that totally motivated me to go above and beyond my 70 kph. I must have been working a little too hard because at around 12 minutes my nose started to bleed everywhere! The man next to me (who by the way could not seem to keep his eyes off of me during my whole bike time) looked at me with horror. "C’est bon" (It’s good) I said as I was holding my white towel up to my bloody nose.
I explained to the trainer that it would be OK for him to show me the five different weights, but that I needed to go home due to the bloody nose. I don’t know how I managed to tell him this, but I did. He understood. As he walked me out to the front door he explained to all the other staff about my bloody nose. As if it isn’t already humiliating enough for me to not speak French, I have to go and get a bloody nose at the gym on my first day there. Only in Paris!!!