Hot new venue for meeting, mingling, and sweat

By Emily Liebert

You walk in. At first you can't really see who's there. You flash your ID and hurry through. You stash your coat so you won't have to carry it around with you. The top 40s are booming. You check yourself out in the wall-to-wall mirrors. Oh yeah, you're hot in that new get-up. So who will you see this time? You take a deep breath...and catch a whiff of the sweat wafting off that weird guy who sits next to you in history section.

This ain't no Gecko's. Not Naples either. Yeah, you got it. I'm talking about the latest wild social arena to take Yale by storm. I am talking about the new awe-inspiring Payne Whitney Fitness Center. With 21,000 square feet of state-of-the-art cardiovascular machines and weights, a surround-sound stereo system, and cable TV, it's no wonder that the fitness center has become a scene hot with daytime and nighttime allure.

What is interesting is that with the gym's physical improvements and subsequent growing popularity came a vast change of scene--or, more accurately, birth of a scene. Indeed, the new fitness center has joined the ranks of CCL--it's an on-campus frat party without the keg.

When I entered the gym for the first time, I was surprised by the nouveau ambiance. As a native New Yorker, I have been to my share of gyms that resemble "happy hours" in sneakers and sweats, but I wouldn't have guessed that New York City gym culture would travel up north to our parts.

Because of the New England climate, Yalies tend to rely on the age-old trick of wearing bulky sweaters and flannels rather than being overly preoccupied with high physical maintenance. Somehow, though, in addition to providing a second home for frequent exercisers, the new gym has also inspired previously self-proclaimed couch potatoes to become gym regulars.

Why is that? Well, there is something about the spirit of the gym that immediately instills in you the sense that your intended workout agenda is inadequate. Have you really earned your place in line for the pull-down if you aren't already covered in sweat from a 45-minute cardio workout? Will you really get buns of steel like the girl next to you if you don't augment your aerobic activity with lifting?

Perhaps it is also the vast expanse of mirrors that contribute to the social and slightly competitive atmosphere. With the constant temptation to check yourself out, the next step is to check out others. (And now there's the added incentive that even varsity athletes frequent the newly improved facility.)

Or maybe we should turn to a less theoretical explanation. It is scientifically proven that when your adrenaline is rushing, members of the opposite sex appear more attractive. We all learned about the following rickety bridge experiment in Psych 110. Two groups of men were to traverse a ravine. One group strolled over a stable crossing while the other struggled to make its way over a rickety bridge. At the other side a moderately attractive woman gave the men her phone number. Virtually all the men who endured the frightening experience of crossing the unstable bridge called her, while the others did not.

Whatever the reasons, it is undeniable; Payne Whitney Fitness Center has become a scene so hot, you better come hydrated. You've seen those girls that wear cute pastel sports bras and matching spandex, some even donning the thong. Of course there are also those guys who lust and leer at the magnificent reflection of their bulging biceps coated in a thin film of sweat. These boys are so attracted to themselves, it is a wonder they have time to check out the spandex chicks. But they do.

Perhaps the greatest venue for exhilarating social exchange is the water fountain. You can eavesdrop on conversations ranging from opinions of that day's psych lecture to juicy bits of the latest intercollegiate social dramas.

Speaking of dramas, you must be prepared to enter battle if you ever get around to actually working out. Sure, you never have to wait for a Stairmaster or a treadmill. But if you want the EFX544, my friend, there's hell to pay. For those of you who don't frequent the Fitness Center, the EFX544 is an elliptical fitness crosstrainer. To translate: it is the offspring of a divine marriage between a Stairmaster and a Nordic Trac. It's so good you'll think you're skiing up the Alps. Stake out your elliptical, mark it with a water bottle, and guard it as a mama bear would her cub.

On a more somber note, it is discouraging to see women whose waists are so small your bracelet could be their belt. You know who I mean--those women who are covered in sweat when you arrive and are still biking with obsessive gusto when you leave. Perhaps the seeds of anorexic tendencies can more easily develop in an environment where there is such an oppurtunity to demonstrate the results of self-discipline and endurance.

And of course there are the times when just as you are relaxing into the most recent report on MTV news, you hear the squeaking of a highlighter. What's that she's reading? It's the girl in your anthropology seminar one Stairmaster over, devouring next week's reading. Where does she think she is? Am I not in the epicenter of Spartan social encounter? Oh, no--it's just Payne Whitney.

Truly, though, the gym is a little slice of heaven descended upon New Haven. Now put down this paper and get those endorphins flowing.

Emily Liebert is a sophomore in Saybrook.

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