I've joined a gym. No, I've joined a gymnastic wonderland. Because those are the two words that came to mind after the guy showed me the free towels and individual TV screens for each machine. To be fair, gyms don't need to do much to impress me. I was at Muhlenberg when we had 4 machines (2 of them those stationary bikes) for 2000 kids. I worked out in the loft, people. Kids today are spoiled.
I was planning to attend my first class at New York Sports Club* tonight, the appropriately-titled "Boot Camp". I was sort of nervous about it, the whole deal with not knowing anyone in the class and hoping you don't do something stupid like mis-align your stepper and fall on your face. (Yes that has happened to me in the past. No it did not happen tonight).
But then, in walks our teacher, who I will refer to as McBiceps. Immediately all fear was lost and was instantly replaced by curiosity, as in, "I am curious to see what McBiceps' guns will look like when we're doing bicep curls" and "I am very curious to see McBiceps' ass during squats." I will stop there because this is a family blog.
ANYWAY, the class was hell, as you'd imagine. They don't call it "Boot Camp" for nothing, but McBiceps was very attentive and pro-active about explaining the moves to me, being that I was new. But five minutes from the end, he yells out "Ok guys, you know what time it is! ASSES OF FIRE!" and then he bails on me to go pump up the volume on the stereo, while I am left wondering what in the hell "Asses of Fire!" will entail.
All I can say is after 180 reps, I can confirm that the move is correctly named.
*I wasn't going to use the name, but what the hell. In case you're wondering, they don't pay me to advertise. In case they're wondering, sure, I'll take some cash for the mention.