We should get credit
for believing we can get in shape.
December
30, 2006
AS WILL BE
reported ad nauseum over the next few days, one of the most common
New Year's resolutions is "get in shape." Exercise demands
many things — patience, discomfort, the ability to ignore
people who make weird humming sounds on the StairMaster — but
the main requirement is time. So, needless to say, I was elated
when my boyfriend showed me an ad for the ROM (Range of Motion)
cross-training machine that he'd torn from an in-flight magazine.
No mere gimmick
of the Thigh Master variety, the ROM machine promises to provide
the equivalent of 20 to 45 minutes of aerobic exercise plus 45
minutes of weight training plus 20 minutes of stretching in … four
minutes per day. This thing is so great that, according to a press
release, "luminaries such as Spielberg, Travolta, Stallone
and Cruise" own it, as do Navy SEALs and the Phoenix Fire
Department. Motivational speaker Tony Robbins has one not just
in his home but in "each of his homes." The cost: $14,615.
Naturally,
I thought my boyfriend would be giving me a ROM machine for the
holidays. I was mistaken. This led to tears and fighting. I told
him that if I didn't have one within six months, I was done with
the relationship, or at least I'd be a lot less available because
of all the time I'd be wasting by exercising the old-fashioned
way. Having been put on notice, he agreed to accompany me to the
factory showroom in North Hollywood, where we could try out the
ROM machine for free. We were told to wear comfortable clothing
and not eat a big meal ahead of time.
The ROM machine
looks like the love child of a rowing machine and some kind of
harness and pulley contraption you might find in the back room
of an S&M club. It's made mostly of solid stainless steel and
weighs 405 pounds. If you buy one, it's shipped to you in a giant
wooden crate; the crate alone costs $185. These details were explained
to us by Tom, a trim salesman who wore jeans and cowboy boots and
ended nearly every sentence by saying "OK?"
Tom told
us that the ROM machine, which has been around since 1990, was
designed with the help of an actual artist, "a Leonardo da
Vinci type." He showed me the artist's book, which contained
pastel-colored paintings of unicorns, dolphins and naked women
rising from cloudbursts. "We wanted to make a piece of equipment
like a Rolex, not a Timex, OK?" he said. "What it really
comes down to is time management. There are studies coming out
of Canada saying that if you do it a certain way, you can reduce
the time to six minutes a week, OK?"
I climbed
on the machine and listened as Tom instructed me to keep my arms
locked while I pushed the handles forward using my abs and pulled
them back using what I guess would be my upper body strength if
I had any. For four minutes, I rowed. I'm pretty sure I did it
wrong. (Tom seemed to be insinuating this but was too diplomatic
to say it.) By the end, I was only slightly winded and not terribly
fatigued.
But as it
turned out, this was only half of the workout. You're supposed
to do it on alternate days with the four-minute lower body portion,
the sensation of which is something akin to reaching for a high
shelf in the kitchen and having to hoist yourself onto the countertop
over and over again for four minutes. This part was tough, but
I think I did it right. Meanwhile, my boyfriend, who'd grunted
his way through the upper body portion (a sign of proper usage)
was either way too advanced for the lower body exercise or cheating.
He didn't break a sweat, which somehow he saw as a negative thing.
I saw it as a way to cut down on showering.
Americans
have always been easily seduced by the notion of a quick fix (remember
the Ab Energizer, which zapped the belly with electric currents?)
and seem happy to invest not in logic but in ideas that defy logic.
One word for this is naivete. But such madness also speaks to our
ability to remain optimistic even when the evidence suggests otherwise.
Of course, this can lead us into intractable wars (is it possible
the president has a ROM machine?), but for most of us, especially
when it comes to keeping New Year's resolutions, optimism is half
the battle. Even if we don't get in shape, we should at least get
credit for believing we can.
Speaking
of optimism, I couldn't help but notice that the workers at the
ROM machine factory — there were 18 or so, mostly Spanish-speaking
immigrants — seemed like a relatively healthy and happy bunch.
Because anyone on the staff can use the thing, I wondered if they
too were believers in the ROM workout. "We test them out after
we make them," a worker told us. "But we'd rather play
soccer. We kick the ball around in the parking lot every day at
lunchtime." They usually play for about 45 minutes.