Week 10: Fiscal Unfitness
Sep. 11th, 2010 07:20 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
captainsblogFirst, the good news: I'm back down the pound I went back up a week ago, after five nights of cardio (ramping it up at the end of the week to 4 miles in 40-ish minutes) and two renewed group workouts with Sally and two different pairs of fellow students. Her gym's being renovated, with more room and class options on the way, so that's all shiny happy stuff.
As for my peripheral contacts this week with the health-and-fitness industry, I have two sets of rants to crank out. Both involve a co-worker at the office I rent space from; she's been in remission from breast cancer for a number of years, and I used to see her going to after-work classes at the BAC back when I belonged there. A few months ago, a routine test spotted a troublesome genetic sign on her workup, and she was sent back for new rounds of radiation and chemo. She lost her hair, but also, not surprisingly, a lot of her energy, and she went to the BAC management to ask about suspending her membership while she was under treatment.
Nope, they said. Even with medical evidence, it wasn't "serious" enough to meet their criteria. Presumably, those involve missing appendages or railroad spikes sticking out of your spleen. Ultimately, her boss (the lawyer who owns the building I rent in) went in and read them the Riot Act, and they finally agreed to let her out of the remainder of her contract, but they wouldn't refund the partial month she'd already been charged for. You can use that later when you're better, they said.
Oh yeah. I'd really like to go up to the control desk twice every workout and have a face-to-face with mercenaries like THAT. So even though the BAC is really big on fundraisers for cancer causes and whatnot, they are a lot less charitable when it's their money at stake. Both my wife and I left them over their strong-arm membership tactics, and this story only made my divorce from them a completely permanent one.
----
Ah, but what's Rachel (as I'll call her) gonna do when she does feel better? She asked how my new gym was. "Gyms," I explained; the cheap one was just for cardio and occasional self-prepared makeups, while the other, smaller and better one was still in a ramp-up stage.
Still, the World Gym's been updating their offerings, with Cardio Pump and Pilates and Zumba, oh my, plus some other classes in the former Express Workout/Stretch and Yoga Ball area that is now a basketball court when not used for groups. She found (as I had) that their website had little or no info, so I offered to get a copy of the class schedule for her, one they've been proudly displaying on the walls by the control desk and locker room entrances.
Amazingly, I was told, "No, you can't have one." The dude literally pointed to the one on the wall, even though I'd told him it was for a friend.
I could see a letter-sized printout of it on their bulletin board, and pointed back to that. I did everything but offer to take it to the post office next door and drop a quarter to make a copy of it, but still, I was not, and still am not, walking out of there with a copy of it. "It'll be online," was the vague promise.
Meanwhile, during some as-yet-undeveloped promotion in a month or so, that same dude, and the rest of the desk and floor staff, will be hustling me to find out if any of my friends or family might like to join. Mmmmmm, maybe not, if you're going to take that attitude toward people who are trying to bring you business.
I've run into this kind of crap before in retail- within the past week, in fact- but I didn't expect it from a purely service-oriented business. But then, these big gyms are getting so into price competition (even "Fitness 19," so named for its monthly charge, is offering a 7-buck-a-month come-on to get you to sign up), the service aspect of the commitment becomes the first thing to go. When Sally and Victor's place is ready to take on a bigger range of clientele, I'm sure they won't make the same mistakes; I'm already packing their cards for anyone who even might be interested in what they have to offer. Which, while not as cheap, is personal, and caring, and good.
Those sorts of things are worth something.
As for my peripheral contacts this week with the health-and-fitness industry, I have two sets of rants to crank out. Both involve a co-worker at the office I rent space from; she's been in remission from breast cancer for a number of years, and I used to see her going to after-work classes at the BAC back when I belonged there. A few months ago, a routine test spotted a troublesome genetic sign on her workup, and she was sent back for new rounds of radiation and chemo. She lost her hair, but also, not surprisingly, a lot of her energy, and she went to the BAC management to ask about suspending her membership while she was under treatment.
Nope, they said. Even with medical evidence, it wasn't "serious" enough to meet their criteria. Presumably, those involve missing appendages or railroad spikes sticking out of your spleen. Ultimately, her boss (the lawyer who owns the building I rent in) went in and read them the Riot Act, and they finally agreed to let her out of the remainder of her contract, but they wouldn't refund the partial month she'd already been charged for. You can use that later when you're better, they said.
Oh yeah. I'd really like to go up to the control desk twice every workout and have a face-to-face with mercenaries like THAT. So even though the BAC is really big on fundraisers for cancer causes and whatnot, they are a lot less charitable when it's their money at stake. Both my wife and I left them over their strong-arm membership tactics, and this story only made my divorce from them a completely permanent one.
----
Ah, but what's Rachel (as I'll call her) gonna do when she does feel better? She asked how my new gym was. "Gyms," I explained; the cheap one was just for cardio and occasional self-prepared makeups, while the other, smaller and better one was still in a ramp-up stage.
Still, the World Gym's been updating their offerings, with Cardio Pump and Pilates and Zumba, oh my, plus some other classes in the former Express Workout/Stretch and Yoga Ball area that is now a basketball court when not used for groups. She found (as I had) that their website had little or no info, so I offered to get a copy of the class schedule for her, one they've been proudly displaying on the walls by the control desk and locker room entrances.
Amazingly, I was told, "No, you can't have one." The dude literally pointed to the one on the wall, even though I'd told him it was for a friend.
I could see a letter-sized printout of it on their bulletin board, and pointed back to that. I did everything but offer to take it to the post office next door and drop a quarter to make a copy of it, but still, I was not, and still am not, walking out of there with a copy of it. "It'll be online," was the vague promise.
Meanwhile, during some as-yet-undeveloped promotion in a month or so, that same dude, and the rest of the desk and floor staff, will be hustling me to find out if any of my friends or family might like to join. Mmmmmm, maybe not, if you're going to take that attitude toward people who are trying to bring you business.
I've run into this kind of crap before in retail- within the past week, in fact- but I didn't expect it from a purely service-oriented business. But then, these big gyms are getting so into price competition (even "Fitness 19," so named for its monthly charge, is offering a 7-buck-a-month come-on to get you to sign up), the service aspect of the commitment becomes the first thing to go. When Sally and Victor's place is ready to take on a bigger range of clientele, I'm sure they won't make the same mistakes; I'm already packing their cards for anyone who even might be interested in what they have to offer. Which, while not as cheap, is personal, and caring, and good.
Those sorts of things are worth something.