COLUMN: Workin' It

From Charlotte Druckman's "Putting It Bluntly," Fall '94 For many students, college has evolved into one enormous treadmill ride at the gym. Working out has become a trend -- it's right up there with thigh highs and short skirts. Of course, in order to achieve this "schoolgirl-look" without appearing ridiculous, one probably has to work out quite a bit. People are flocking to sign up at Nautilus, getting out of bed at odd hours to beat the rush for the stairmaster and buying workout paraphernalia like there's no tomorrow. The gym phenomenon is on a par with the new popularity of gourmet coffee shops. Just as we are intrigued by the notion of sipping cappuccino (made with skim milk, of course) in a small space surrounded by pseudo-intellectual people who think they're in Europe, the concept of donning a pair of cross-trainers and dithering with members of our social niche while we sweat has become an alluring one. Much of this "getting in shape" phase is a result of the new attitude of the 1990s. Going to the gym goes hand in hand with taking care of the environment and restoring our souls after the indulgent, corrupting previous decade. Our bodies are temples and it's time we started treating them that way. Doctors gripe to us about heart disease and the importance of beginning a healthy exercise regimen at an early age. But isn't it ironic that these health-conscious gym goers are the same people who smoke cigarettes at the Palladium on Tuesday nights or guzzle beer at Smoke's? Despite all of this recent health hype one of the most significant influences on the newly gym-crazed is the same thing that drives people to wear baseball caps and denim shirts: propaganda. Magazine editors can tell us the "waif" fad is over, but the emaciated Kate Moss is still doing Calvin Klein "One" commercials, and while female models may not be conventionally "pretty" they still have perfect bodies and are sometimes so thin they look like figures from an El Greco painting. Guys are confronted with the same pressure as we are. From Guess? ads to Fabio, men have a lot of competition. Just last Wednesday night on Beverly Hills 90210, even Brandon Walsh was seen bench pressing at the gym. The point remains the same for males and females: one should exercise for one's self, not to look like someone in a magazine or because one's friends are doing it. On the one hand, the idea of staying fit and being healthy is a good one and ought to be promoted. But, when misinterpreted and exploited as a social trend or a form of peer pressure, this excessive focus on body image, eating and aerobicizing can become dangerous. What's starting to happen now is that the people who live at the gym, many of whom don't need to be there 24 hours a day, are preventing those of us who really ought to be working out from getting on the exercise bikes. A gym should be a low-key environment where one can workout without feeling self-conscious. But it is intimidating to walk in and see fit, svelte people, who all seem to know each other, discussing their incredible weekends. Those who would truly benefit from going to the gym are those who feel they don't belong there. Working out is like being part of an exclusive club. People join Nautilus for effect -- to improve their images (yes, the double meaning is intended) and to socialize. And some of the members are already so thin they could be blown away in the wind tunnel on their way home from exercising. Forget the "freshman 15," first year students are going for 50 pounds, not in weight gain, but in weight lifting. This is no longer about "being in shape," it's about joining a movement so that you too can tell everyone about how you went to the gym this morning. It's the same thing that has happened with food. Instead of actually eating in a healthy fashion, we concentrate only on "fat content." We don't eat balanced meals; we eat ten chocolate cookies because they are fat-free. Remember, a few centuries back, when being overweight was a sign of social status and wealth? Not anymore. Now, the quintessential chic student is skinny, on a treadmill, holding a box of Snackwells. As much as we thought "quantity over quality" was a phrase we left behind in the eighties, we can't seem to get away from it. This is not to say that some gym-goers are not legitimately concerned with health and fitness, or that just because someone works out every day, he or she is a follower or social climber. Not by a longshot. However, there are some people who are not exercising for the right reasons, and they are the people who will get off the stairmasters as soon as thigh highs are out and the sweat trend is over. Charlotte Druckman is a sophomore English major from New York City. Putting It Bluntly appears alternate Tuesdays.