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Tests from the Temple of Sweat
March
2000
by H. R. Wood '64
The new
fitness room at the Payne Whitney
Gymnasium opened last year with the mission of getting the Yale
community into better shape. But
it has already accomplished quite another goal, becoming the place
where Yale gets together. The Adrian C. Israel Fitness Center --
which sports no fewer than 156 machines, from ergometers to stairclimbers
-- is as close to an Italian market square as the Uni- versity is
likely to get.
The fourth-floor
facility (which is just down the hall from the spectacular new Brady
Squash Center) attracts all kinds of people -- from varsity athletes
to staff from Sterling Library and the development office -- from
shortly after dawn until deep into the night. Stunning examples
of youthful male and female anatomy mingle happily with more senior
members of the community sporting wrinkles, spare flesh, and smooth
pates. While there is much darting of eyes as the more attractive
visitors go through their routines, no one seems to look down on
the under-conditioned. One of the moral virtues of the place is
that the out-of-shape can take inspiration from the fit, while the
fit can take caution about their future from the soft.
Many
of the exercise machines are equipped with helpful maps of the human
body indicating the muscles -- pecs, abs, delts, lats, and so forth -- the devices are designed to strengthen or enlarge. A small crisis erupted when the batteries that power the digital displays on the
rowing machines began to disappear. It turned out they were being
pinched by musically inclined visitors whose Walkmans had run low
on power. (Bright yellow tape now secures the battery ports.)
Although
there is some subtle jockeying for the most sought-after machines,
most of the users are remarkably courteous and helpful. "Sir,
you're likely to end up with back problems if you keep rowing like
that," whispered a varsity oarsman to a veteran sweating away
on an erg some weeks ago, and then proceeded to demonstrate the
proper technique.
But much
of the communicating is silent, carried on in the messages displayed
on the T-shirts worn by the visitors as they puff through their
reps and sets.
Some
of the texts are not for family consumption, alluding to sexual endowment and staying power. But others are appropriately uplifting.
"Confidence, Discipline, Self-Worth, Education, Teamwork,"
reads one that shows up most weekdays around 5 o'clock. "Making
Good Things Happen on Seventh Street," reads another heading
for the track downstairs in the Lanman Center. "Look at the
World Through Women's Eyes," advises a third.
The more
competitive contingent is well represented by a shirt proclaiming:
"Pain -- It Lets You Know You're Not Dead." Some can get
fairly aggressive. Examples: "Don't Mess with the Bull, You'll
Get the Horns," and "A New Den for Every Wildcat."
A young woman with the broad shoulders and narrow waist of a swimmer
indicates her specialty with, "Life's a Beach, Then You Dive."
And then
there is the category of social outreach. Shortly before the playing
of The Game on November 20 -- won by Yale in a thrilling last-seconds
finale -- a confident undergraduate strode up to the free weights
in a blue number bearing the message, "Friends Don't Let Friends
Go to Harvard."
But lest
anyone think that fitness has become a universal concern on the
Yale campus, consider the shirt that reads: "Body by Television."  |
