Wooed by something bigger and better.
I’m not always a huge supporter of ‘bigger and better’ when it comes out – especially since a bigger and better something typically lacks the service and productivity that ‘smaller and more personal’ used to have. But perhaps I should back up to the beginning. . .
Last night we visited the newest addition to our health club chain out in the middle of Savage, MN. Driving through the dark, we eventually found the huge glow of light pollution that is the Savage Lifetime Fitness. The club -- in all its glory (and in my humble opinion) -- is probably their finest yet in this state, although their clubs already span across seven other states besides Minnesota. I like to think that we’ve chosen a ‘middle of the road’ health club in our area – impressive, but not as expensive as the Flagship Athletic crowd and slightly more disease-free than the Bally Fitness crowd – and lacking that ‘meat market’ feel. But this new club is anything but middle of the road.
In the making of this particular LTF club, the planners certainly engaged some of the best architecture that can possibly be done for this type of facility. The majority of the club consists of windows, spanning from floor to ceiling, covering two full floors of pools, basketball courts, a spa, a café, and endless rows of cardio and weight equipment. Not over-packed with a climbing wall and only occasionally used amenities that their other clubs have, somehow the architects managed to give the ‘bigger and better’ of clubs a more personal feel – never making you feel like you’re out in the open, for all to stare at. The front lobby juts out in a glass, v-shaped wall into a huge expanse of parking lot, which although full, will lose its inhabitants somewhere inside the club, hardly feeling crowded at all. The woods are cherry and carpets are a modern, deep grey and muted colors with leather furniture gracing the sitting bays where one waits for their partner to materialize from the equally beautiful locker rooms. Not to mention, on occasion one can see the LTF-chain creator weaving among the machines that he and several very pleased investors own.
I’m gushing of course, and I know that. But I’ve never quite seen a ‘bigger and better’ that doesn’t feel like the crappy old thing shoved into a larger building and multiplied by two or three or more. I’m sure there’s something much better in some larger metro area than ours and I do take into consideration that a small-town girl such as myself may be falling for the ‘bright lights’ of a bigger health club. But for me, this is health club at its best and I am slowly being wooed by the bigger and better brother of our small little gym.

posted by paula 9:32 AM

Foot Facts.
Despite a few pounds or inches lost, nothing renews your faith in exercise like a new pair of shoes. Thank you to Roger who referred us to the Startline store in Minnetonka where we met Gina, who as of this weekend may have renewed my faith in shoe retailers as we know it. For the past two years, my closet has been a veritable graveyard for the cool, retro, and barely used tennis shoes that are Nikes, New Balance and Reeboks. They may help Michael Jordan soar, but they kill my feet and eventually make my feet feel like hot spikes are being driven up my arches. So after some consideration, I conceded that my comfort while running, biking, or lifting at will might just come at the cost of being rather unfashionable. Needless to say, I was pleased to find out that Gina (may or may not be the correct spelling) believes that Nikes were made for fashionably conscious exercisers who don’t necessarily care about the condition of their feet. Along with the extremely personalized service we got at Startline, I got to test each pair out on a treadmill, a complete guarantee and excellent return policy (even after I put a few miles on them, just as long I just wear them indoors) and a truckload of knowledge about feet and shoes in general. And the selection was not all that shabby to look at either.

Let’s face it: I’m a shoe monger. I’d even qualify as a shoe whore. I can give Imelda Marcos a run for her money and still would be able to even if I had to surrender one foot to a peg leg. And considering that Gina was a database of facts regarding feet and footwear -- especially of the athletic nature -- she married two of my favorite subjects together: facts and footwear.

Gina bestowed upon us a wealth of information regarding your ten little piggies and the feet that carry them. She told us that your shoe breaks down in about 300 – 500 miles worth of wear, depending on the activity and way you walk. For the individual who engages in moderate exercise, one should replace their shoes approximately every four months. Or as Ryan refers to it: the great conspiracy among shoe retailers to sell more shoes. Shoes that fit correctly make less noise than those that don’t and basically, the Nike air pocket is a gimmic. Our relationship wasn’t all dreamy though – Gina and I differ opinions on a few subjects. I had to lie and tell her that I only wear heels occasionally (more like everyday) and that they weren’t usually higher than an inch (more like five) to avoid a lecture on foot care. Besides that, she was honest, attentive and hopefully as dependable as my new Sauconys will be; everything you could dream of in a shoe retailer. And although I can’t promise Gina I’ll be trading mine in the allotted 300 – 500 miles, I think this is the start of a beautiful relationship.

posted by paula 10:24 AM

I was thinking about my analogy the other day – about how perfect the fledgling being pushed from the nest actually is in my life. After all, my descent on the world was nothing like I thought it would be and I’m sure a little less impressive than my family thought it would be as well.
After college or my ‘push out of the nest’ (although I never really felt pushed at all, it was more like my desperate leap) I moved to Minnesota to start something new. I’m sure a few thought I was moving here ‘for the boy’ and that’s fine that they think that way, because I could never convince people otherwise if that’s what they wanted to believe.
Since then I feel like my flight has been a monotonous, common flight pattern, rarely deviating, but boring and necessary; filled with an occasional flounder and some turbulence, but never resulting in injury. Thankfully, I never took a nosedive and I never hit the ground. But I’ve never really felt like I soared, either.
Ironically, when I was much younger I thought that I was quite capable of soaring. That I would at some time, go out and soar higher than my family or friends ever expected me to or thought I was capable of and now I feel that it is them that does the soaring and I am left standing on the ground, looking up. I am the classic, first-generation college student and I thought I would be able to do so much more and in reality I am the one standing here admiring them and not the reverse that I had pictured years ago.
This is in part because my standards for myself are rarely ever met, either because I set them so high or because my critique of my results is harsh and demanding. For me, there is rarely a ‘best you could do’ because I am constantly plagued by the vision of how I could have done better. I have yet to decide if this is a severe psychological disorder – something of the obsessive-compulsive nature – or if this merely a harmless trait of someone who has learned to strive for the best. After all, I always grew up learning that if you refuse to accept anything but the best, you rarely get anything less.

posted by paula 10:40 PM