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Feb. 7, 2007
February flesh weakens By Ryan Maloney But in the cardio annex at the bottom of the University Community Centre, a gym-room filled with black and grey cross-training, jogging and cycling machines, a sweat-like fog cloaks the windows. More than 25 red-faced women and two men work out here tonight. Most don't speak to each other, resigning themselves instead to the serenity of their iPods. Some read magazines as their legs pound cycling machines with such intensity they seem nearly independent from the rest of their body. The sounds of Sex and the City on TBS are heard on televisions throughout, muffled by the hum of treadmills. Holly Prince has worked for the annex for three years and says it's common to see so many people this time of year. New Year's resolutions and the quest for toned bikini bods to show off during reading week trips always bring women into the gym through January and early February, she says. But she also says that once reading week has passed, the number of people
working out dips noticeably. This choice - to stay loyal to fitness vows made with a belly full of New Year's bubbly - faces Julie Stobie, 21, a fourth-year political science student working up a sweat on a cycling machine.
She's a proud "January joiner," a person who, in the pre-dawn haze of her New Year's soiree, vowed to start 2007 cycling and running at a gym. Stobie already looks trim but admits to a little extra "turkey weight" packed on over the holidays she's anxious to be rid of. Her boyfriend, Tyler Kaczmarczyk, is encouraging her. A workout buddy named Kayte McLeod helps keep her motivated. But with schoolwork piling up, the cold winds raging and the chip bag casting its seductive spell, she, like so many January joiners, wonders how long she can keep her promise. As McLeod notes, January joiners seldom last. "In my experience, they drop like flies come February," she said. The enthusiasm of a fresh start pushed Stobie to join the ranks of those donning sweat-stained Spandex and to head to the spot where "guns" are "polished" and "pipes" are "busted." "My resolution this year was to stop saying and start doing," she said. "Stop saying you're going to the gym, stop saying you're getting fat. You can only complain so much before you have to do something about it." Stobie was drawn to the annex after the holidays, taking advantage of its January deal: four months for $49 compared to the usual $20 per month. Her decision is not unusual. Nor is the push for gyms to capitalize on the wave of enthusiasm accompanying a new year. More than 12 per cent of new gym memberships come in January, the highest of any other month, according to the International Health, Racquet and Sportsclub Association. It is harder to quantify how many drop off in February because people usually buy year-long memberships. Stobie worked out three times a week through January with her roommates. But as February begins, she's already down to twice a week, and fears that could drop, too. "Here's my prediction - I'm going to go in February and then when March hits and I have so much to do, I'll never go," she said. And the busier she gets, the harder it is to think healthy, too. "I eat a lot more junk food," Stobie said of the upcoming season of mid-terms and essays. "I'll grab a bag of chips and eat the whole thing. It's disgusting, but it happens." Other temptations make a change of lifestyle difficult as well, from the "hot-dog guy" outside of Jim Bob Ray's watering hole to the friends always eager to make a run to the nearest fast-food joint for some deep-fried deliciousness. Gym culture is also a challenge, Stobie says. On campus, she works out next to women who make sure the colour of their head-band matches their water-bottles. Stobie says she often wonders if she stepped in to a fashion show or a gym. "I saw this one girl in full makeup, gold hoop earrings, these little booty shorts, a track shirt and a sweatband. She looked like she fell out of the '80s," said Stobie, before breaking out in a rendition of Olivia Newton John's Let's Get Physical. The regulars also lurk in the background, eagerly anticipating the disappearance of gym newbies once February rolls around, so that they might reclaim their equipment. Her boyfriend, Kaczmarczyk, a 21-year-old political science student, works out at the Athletic Club on Wonderland Road South three or four times a week. He concedes gym regulars view January joiners as "kind of a joke," but don't really mind them as long as workouts aren't disrupted. "It's not like there's any discrimination there," he said with a chuckle. Kaczmarczyk expects his gym to thin out even before reading week. He hopes Stobie will be one January joiner who stays with her program. "I'm happy that she's trying to stay motivated," he said. "In February and March, (working out) is a very easy thing to cut out of your schedule." Stobie's friend McLeod is one gym regular who is less diplomatic about January joiners. The 22-year-old sociology student came to Western from Charlotte, N.C. to join the rowing team and has, since Grade 9, worked out five or six times a week. She's gearing up for a marathon in May. When she came back to the cardio annex in January and saw her gym crammed with new faces, she said she could think only one thing: "Those fools are on my machines." Kidding aside, McLeod said she's happy more people are exercising and decreasing their chance of heart attack. She's going to try to keep her friend Stobie motivated, she says. "We all gain extra weight after Christmas and everyone needs to deflate their inner-tube once in a while," she said.
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