I walked into FitRec for the first time ever last week ‘-‘- to get a flu shot. Because I don’t work out, I get optional vaccines as a substitute for working out. It’s kind of my shtick. In fact, I don’t even own a pair of suitable workout sneakers, unless you count the fantastic pair of leather Nike Zoom Blazers I scored at TJMaxx a few years ago for only $15. But no one ever counts those.
FitRec was to be the only place on campus I’d never allow myself to go to. Not because I think I’m too good for it, but because I knew I’d be scorned there. I guess I’ve always given off this aura of apathy when it comes to physical fitness. Even my earliest gym teachers picked up on this, and they eventually took to resigning to the fact that while the other kids would engage in a decent amount of jocular high-fivery after a good set of volleyball, I’d only go so far as to pick my cuticles or snap my tongue against the back of my front teeth. Gymnasiums are just not welcoming to me ‘-‘- and I’m not the kind of girl to show up to parties uninvited.
But when I found out that the flu vaccine was only available at FitRec, I felt my face blanche. I can handle a needle piercing my skin without much more reaction than perhaps a bored sigh, but when it comes to the piercing glares of the entire women’s crew team and the scathing whispers of a whole school of elliptical-ing sorority girls, well, that’s when the fear sets in. They know it, I know it, and even those forbidding-looking steel turnstiles at the entrance to the place know it ‘-‘- I’m foreign, I’m weak, I’m vulnerable.
And when I got to the turnstile, I felt exactly how Hunter S. Thompson must have felt in Fear and Loathing when he’s high on ether and his motor skills stop working right outside of the entrance to a Las Vegas attraction. This was a seminal event in my Boston University career, and instead of sauntering right through like I would have anyplace else, I found that I couldn’t walk at all. I misstepped, I fumbled with my I.D., I raised my eyebrows in confusion and looked to my friend Daria for help, but she had disappeared through to the other side. So there I was, right at the threshold -‘-‘- right on the precipice ‘-‘- of slipping into what I had always considered nothing more than a black hole that campus athletes used to get to other, stranger dimensions where fitness was considered fun, and I couldn’t even get through the checkpoint. My card wouldn’t swipe!
The snickering FitRec employees behind the counter were delighted with my repeated failures. I guess I can’t blame them ‘-‘- I was in kitten-heeled boots, a dress and a beret, and I couldn’t figure out the ID swiping mechanism, which left me whimpering like a small animal. Finally, one of them ‘-‘- the blonde girl with the stupid ponytail ‘-‘- spoke up and asked me when the last time I’d been to FitRec was, but her inflection was more along the lines of that of a GreenPeace volunteer on the street asking you when you last did something good for your country.
We immediately hated each other. She turned to her coworker ‘-‘- the brunette boy with the stupid bro shag haircut ‘-‘- and they exchanged some pretentious technical jargon about ‘signing a release’ and ‘accepting the terms.’ Those jerks, I thought as I hung my head and followed the girl to a set of computers on the wall ‘-‘- put there specifically to humiliate all FitRec foreigners, no doubt ‘-‘- trying to fool me into agreeing to their terms, just so they can string me up on the rock wall and leave me hanging there for weeks as some trophy. A spectacle. With a sign around my neck saying, ‘abandon hope all ye who enter here.’
But I needed that flu shot. Especially after being in a place like FitRec, which is essentially a literal stomping ground for BU’s finest, where all the kids get together to exchange germs and patronizing glances and workout fish stories. The place is pure muscle ‘-‘- thousands of scantily clad students there at all hours just climbing and heaving and pushing one another against walls and trailing sweaty fingertips across tabletops and ordering expensive smoothies. And when I saw how all of the windows weren’t quite as see-through as they might have been, likely due to a layer of smeared sweat crusted in a layer of fine dust ‘-‘- well, that’s when I realized I didn’t want FitRec as much as it didn’t want me. We were just two oppositely charged entities.
Luckily, I didn’t have to stay long. All I needed was the shot ‘-‘- a cubic centimeter or two of artificial health to snap me out of the FitRec coma I was in. And when I was finished, I sprinted quite quickly right out of there, leaving behind the strange, Gonzo world I’d so tactlessly entered. Because. while some people run in FitRec, there are others who prefer to get fit running from it.
Lauren Rodrigue, a sophomore in the College of Arts and Sciences, is a weekly columnist for The Daily Free Press. She can be reached at lrodrig@bu.edu.
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I too am shocked and appalled by this “opinion” piece. How ridiculous. Just because you feel a certain way about things doesn’t make that a legitimate “opinion.” Next you are gonna be telling me that anyone can have an “opinion.” And how dare you use artistic license? Everyone knows you aren’t allowed to prove a point unless the example is a photographic copy of an actual event. Clearly you are wrong and should just hop on the correct bandwagon already.
I am writing this fully aware that yes it is an opinion piece and it is the writer’s job to voice her opinion, regardless of what it may be. However, I find it incredibly unwarranted and unjustified that Lauren projected her insecurities about going to the gym on the FitRec staff and front desk workers. I do work at FitRec and know for a fact that we are expected to maintain a code of conduct that certainly includes respect for the members (not laughing at them, as noted in the editorial) and a degree of professionalism while on the job. Much of the front desk staff have their jobs through work study programs, a large reason why I and many of my coworkers are even able to attend BU. As I said earlier, I am cognizant of the reality that this is an opinion piece, but it would serve the writer best to be fully acquanited with the facts behind her subject material before she voices her opinion before an entire student body.
I am writing this fully aware that yes it is an opinion piece and it is the writer’s job to voice her opinion, regardless of what it may be. However, I find it incredibly unwarranted and unjustified that Lauren projected her insecurities about going to the gym on the FitRec staff and front desk workers. I do work at FitRec and know for a fact that we are expected to maintain a code of conduct that certainly includes respect for the members (not laughing at them, as noted in the editorial) and a degree of professionalism while on the job. Much of the front desk staff have their jobs through work study programs, a large reason why I and many of my coworkers are even able to attend BU. As I said earlier, I am cognizant of the reality that this is an opinion piece, but it would serve the writer best to be fully acquanited with the facts behind her subject material before she voices her opinion before an entire student body.
This is an opinion piece. Here, Lauren is stating her opinion. If you don’t like it, or would rather read about fluffy cotton candy clouds or blue skies, get out of the opinion section. To me, this is just funny. It’s a joke, and it’s opinionated. An opinionated piece in the opinion section, who would have thunk it?
I am also a FitRec employee, and I agree with FitRec Staffer completely. As far as aesthetics are concerned, I feel as though the gym is by far one of the most well-kept locations on campus. I have met so many friendly people during my time there, and I can only hope that those reading this article who have not used the services of FitRec before will not be misled. As an employee, I try very hard to be as helpful as I can to anyone who enters our doors, because it is very often the case that guests who are not regular visitors use our facilities. To decide beforehand that you will have a bad experience does nothing except guarantee that that is what you will have. As a student at BU, I feel as though there are issues that concern our community that are much more worthy of a spot in our daily newspaper than one aimed at fostering preconceived notions about not only the employees at FitRec, but your classmates.
I have had an alumni membership to Fitrec since it has opened and it really is an enjoyable place in many, many ways; it has been a positive force in my life thus far.<br/>I feel bad that you had a bad experience, but you should give it another chance–it can be a fun place and a place to de-stress and stay in shape and even relax.
I have had an alumni membership to Fitrec since it has opened and it really is an enjoyable place in many, many ways; it has been a positive force in my life thus far.<br/>I feel bad that you had a bad experience, but you should give it another chance–it can be a fun place and a placed to de-stress and stay in shape and even relax.
As a FitRec staff member, I take personal offense to all of Lauren’s comments. Where do I begin? The flu clinic was held at FitRec because our facility is large enough to handle what was expected to be a large crowd. It could have been held elsewhere and there could have been a line a mile long servicing more than 850 members of the BU community. Lauren also didn’t have to enter through the main entrance. She could have used the doors located on Buick St. to bypass the turnstiles, as the signs on the front doors stated. <p/>No one has ever been scorned at FitRec, nor will they ever be. We have students, faculty, staff, alumni, spouses, and dependents who are all welcomed, Lauren is no different. To say otherwise displays her lack of understanding regarding FitRec’s place in the BU community.<p/>It is also a common misconception that athletes use this facility. Athletic programs have their own facilities located at the Track and Tennis Center, with the exception of the swim teams who practice and compete in our competition pool, but do in fact work out at 100 Ashford St.<p/>Her ID didn’t work because she had yet to sign her online usage agreement, which all members must sign before given access. It is a process that takes 1 minute on the computers that the facility has been kind enough to provide for the convenience of our members. If we didn’t have these computers, people would then have to go back home to sign the agreement. <p/>Lauren also described a “blonde girl with the stupid ponytail” and a “brunette boy with the stupid bro shag haircut”. What gives her the right to denigrate someone she doesn’t know, someone who is going to help her sign her usage agreement and explain where the flu clinic is being held? What’s more confusing is that people fitting those descriptions were not working at the time.<p/>It is Lauren’s decision not to work out at FitRec and no one is judging her for it. But when she chooses to judge FitRec employees based on their appearance as well as those who prefer to work off some stress by playing basketball, lifting some weights, swimming some laps, or climbing some stairs, she becomes the person she hates.