LIFT

My gym fee is $75. That's for the whole year. It's unheard of in New York City, and yet it's the city itself that named the price. This is no Equinox. No fresh-cut flowers. No flatscreen TVs. No TVs period. It's the New York City Dept. of Parks & Recreation. A far cry from Equinox, or L.A. Sports Club, or Crunch - or even New York Sport Clubs, the Starbucks of gyms. There's not even towel service at Parks & Recreation. But it has what you need: elipticals, treadmills, free weights, exercise machines, plus a few extras: basketball court, tiny indoor track, and swimming pool. Most of all, it's friggin cheap. And after my career switch a year and a half ago, it's doable.

I haven't taken advantage of the pool yet, and most likely never will. Several years ago, a buddy of mine and I decided to cool off from a hot summer day by swimming in a pool at New York Sports Club, the one by Kips Bay. I'm not exaggerating, the pool area smelled like sweaty socks. The stench was suffocating. I haven't stepped foot in a pool in New York City since.

Lately I've been taking my Mandarin character index cards to the gym with me. I look at them while stretching or in between sets. But I started getting lazy. I found myself taking more time off in between sets. So tonight I decided to leave the index cards at home and bring my iPod instead. The music clearly upped the intensity of my workout tonight. I have the Pixies, Interpol and Led Zeppelin to thank for that. I also delved into some Bon Jovi tonight while doing chin-ups. Jon Bon Jovi was quite a motivating workout partner, yelling in my ear, "Ohhhh, we're halfway there, oh-ohhhh, livin' on a prayer!".