Farewell to Curves
I'm finishing up my year at Curves, and am transferring to The Lodge at Des Peres. There are many reasons behind this decision: it's less expensive, there is more equipment, the hours are better, it's closer to my house...in other words, it was a no-brainer.
To leave Curves, one must do more than send an e-mail, as I discovered a month ago. One must actually give the owner a piece of paper with one's signature on it (picky, picky), at which point one's membership expires in 30 days. Since I turned in my paper right near the end of July, I figured I was good through August and then would join The Lodge at the beginning of September.
Much to my amusement, my scan card didn't work at Curves this morning. The owner was not there (thankfully, because yours truly doesn't much care for confrontations, no matter how pleasantly they are handled), so I asked my buddy who was working to check the system. Sometimes the cards can be a bit finicky. She checked...I had been stricken. Wow. So, like, yeah, it's 30 days exactly...not so much with "ride it out 'til the end of the month." Thankfully, my buddy let me work out anyway. I felt like a real renegade, although a little wave of guilt washed over me with every "Change stations now!"
It's not like I expected a bunch of fanfare when I left or anything, but damn, the owner didn't even fight for my membership. Not that she'd have won, given the long list of reasons I have for leaving, but still. And even though I'm leaving on my own terms, by my own decision, it hurts to be cast away from my old gym with not so much as a "don't let the door hit you in the ass on the way out." I think part of my pain stems from the fact that every day when I'd scan in, a little screen would pop up welcoming me and saying how many times I had visited. It was motivating to watch that number tick up. It was well over 200 last time I was there.
The only thing that popped up this morning was, "That number isn't recognized."
Harsh.
So, we're off to The Lodge tonight to sign me up, so I can kill myself on the (h)ellipticals and treadmills and make an ass of myself while I learn to use the new machines. Wish me luck...I think I'm gonna need it. During my trial run, I accidentally mopped the sweat from my brow with the disinfectant-laden towel used to clean the machine instead of my Lodge-issued workout towel. Ouch.
To leave Curves, one must do more than send an e-mail, as I discovered a month ago. One must actually give the owner a piece of paper with one's signature on it (picky, picky), at which point one's membership expires in 30 days. Since I turned in my paper right near the end of July, I figured I was good through August and then would join The Lodge at the beginning of September.
Much to my amusement, my scan card didn't work at Curves this morning. The owner was not there (thankfully, because yours truly doesn't much care for confrontations, no matter how pleasantly they are handled), so I asked my buddy who was working to check the system. Sometimes the cards can be a bit finicky. She checked...I had been stricken. Wow. So, like, yeah, it's 30 days exactly...not so much with "ride it out 'til the end of the month." Thankfully, my buddy let me work out anyway. I felt like a real renegade, although a little wave of guilt washed over me with every "Change stations now!"
It's not like I expected a bunch of fanfare when I left or anything, but damn, the owner didn't even fight for my membership. Not that she'd have won, given the long list of reasons I have for leaving, but still. And even though I'm leaving on my own terms, by my own decision, it hurts to be cast away from my old gym with not so much as a "don't let the door hit you in the ass on the way out." I think part of my pain stems from the fact that every day when I'd scan in, a little screen would pop up welcoming me and saying how many times I had visited. It was motivating to watch that number tick up. It was well over 200 last time I was there.
The only thing that popped up this morning was, "That number isn't recognized."
Harsh.
So, we're off to The Lodge tonight to sign me up, so I can kill myself on the (h)ellipticals and treadmills and make an ass of myself while I learn to use the new machines. Wish me luck...I think I'm gonna need it. During my trial run, I accidentally mopped the sweat from my brow with the disinfectant-laden towel used to clean the machine instead of my Lodge-issued workout towel. Ouch.
posted by Amy at 2:10 PM
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