Turbo Charged Luxury on the River

The boiler at my gym has been down (again) for a week. Luckily we are the red headed stepchild of the Turbo Charged Swanky Ass Riverplace Athletic Club so I am still able to work out. At first I was a little intimidated. Because I do not dress up to go to the gym. I wear the same Freddy Kruger thermal sweatshirt with seasons old Uggs that have some weird spatter on them that wont come off. By next winter they will be cowering in my closet like abused puppies and I may have to break down and replace them. But this is Portland not L.A. so I don’t feel like The Little Match Girl.

You know when she  lights all the matches and gets all warm and fuzzy and fed at the end its because she froze to death on the sidewalk right?
Aren’t fairytales sweet?

There is a cafeteria  situated right underneath the cardio room. As a result while you’re sweating it up on the stairmaster you are also being assaulted with the aroma of pizza bagels.

This is not right Lord.

But they have fresh cucumber water! And the cardio machines have basic cable. So instead of watching Judge Judy or One Life to Live I can watch Paula Deen drowning Pralines in butter, Or Snookie and Jwow getting shagged by an entire area code in Jersey. Thats better right? Yesterday I watched a program about giant squid hosted by a guy who has been attacked by them repeatedly on his quest to understand these amazing creatures.

And y’all thought Snookie was stupid…….

TV at the gym is just a distraction from the pain. Its very helpful. And I admit the bigger the trainwreck the harder I sweat. I would love to be one of those people reading War and Peace on the stairmaster. I have a feeling they might be a bit smug. If they’re actually reading the damn book and not just posing I guess I’ll give it to them.  But good tv distracts you from what you REELLY want to do which is

Eat blueberry pancakes

Take a six hour nap with reruns of I Love Lucy in the background

Wake up and have sex

Go back to sleep

Wake up and order bad Chinese food

Drink wine

Have sex again

Dance around the house in your underwear

Drink more wine

Pass out and resolve to go to the gym in the morning

Don’t ask me if I’m alone or not cuz y’all know it doesn’t really matter does it? ahem…

Which of course brings me to the Turbo Charged Super Sized Six Cylinder Steam room.

Of course they have one! Are you kidding!? They have 20 kinds of lotions and potions oozing from the walls. They have floor length mirrors with soft pink lighting. They have little elves that rinse out your underwear while you’re in the shower!

The Turbo Steam room is the only real disappointment. It shouldn’t be, but hear me out. It smells like cedar instead of chlorine. It hisses and revs its turbocharged steam engine Like Danika Friken’ Patrick.  It is so hot in there that I damn near lost a layer of skin the first time I went in. And it DID give me a zit that had a pulse and fangs I swear to God….

It is efficient but its not sexy, too many windows. Besides its so  hot in there you definitely want to watch yourself or you might end up with seared tuna.

Too far?

My little ghetto steam room just chugs along like the Li’l Engine That Could  hissing and blowing beautiful clouds from a rusty pipe on the floor. It spits hot water at your ankles if you stand too close. Its the size of a closet and I feel pretty certain that hardly anyone uses it but me.

I won’t mind when they kick me to the curb, but The Situation is about to get out of rehab and Snookie just lost 40lbs……


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