Love My Gym

There are lots of reasons why I love my gym. First of all, they don't open until 10am, like most places in Chiang Mai. The mentality around here is, "If it's before 10, what the heck are you doing out of bed already?" When I became a member a few months ago, they had me sign the paperwork and once I was all set, I went to work out. When I was leaving that same day, they said they needed to take my picture for my ID card. Super. They couldn't do that before I got all sweaty and red in the face? My ID photo is really attractive by the way.

Look closely at this photo (click to enlarge). Please notice the "Determination" poster. There are dozens of these around the gym. This particular one is of three women circa 1982 in spandex and strategically ripped terrycloth outfits. One of the ladies' shirts says WEAT - I'm assuming it's supposed to say SWEAT, you just can't see the S behind her chest. If you look in the background, you can see another poster of a giant white man body builder. I'm sorry, but don't you think it's a little condescending to put a giant muscle man poster in a room full of little Thai people who usually spend their workout time playing ping pong? (See also the ping pong table in the mirror.) It's like a slap in the face saying, "You will never look like this guy."

Here is a better example of these posters. The caption is "Body Heat." This is what hangs two feet in front of your face while you're on the treadmill. Is this supposed to be like the hang the carrot on a string in front of the donkey trick? I so wanted to take a picture of every single poster so you could laugh with me but I needed to be inconspicuous in taking these photos. No one wants to look like the farang pervert who's obsessed with motivational/erotic posters. Ironically, this gym is not the House of Male (see previous post), although I'm sure they have similar decor. My favorite poster this week is one that was in a crowded spot so I didn't get a photo, but it's of a ripped muscle dude wearing nothing but a pair of jeans, which are sliding half way down his buns as to suggest he's about to get naked with a caption that says "Built in the USA." Please take my word for it.

And of course, the tribute to the King on your way out, complete with what seems to be a frame of foil yogurt lids. Nothing makes me want to pump some iron like some greased-up people from the 80's and the King of this great country.