Deja vu

I have moments here where I feel transported back to Brighton England. For instance, when I am grocery shopping. NYC is so crammed together, there is no space for a big, sprawling, suburban supermarket. As a result, everyone here buys from small, local vendors, from little shops selling little portions. Bags of chips come in single servings…if you can find them. Here in the “heart of America,” fresh fruits and vegetables are more prevalent than junk food—can you believe it? You walk down a street, and yes, there are flashing neon lights blinking at you and scantily clad men and women giants staring down at you from jumbo-sized billboards, but then you try to find a half-gallon of Ben & Jerry’s to make yourself feel better at the end of the day, and you’ll be lucky to find a convenience store selling a pint. Chances are, you’ll end up settling for a vendor selling blended ice.

Or maybe that’s just the part of town I live in. And the part of town I work in. And the part of town I’ve traveled to. (Upper West Side, Midtown, and SoHo, respectively.)

But then there’s the gym. Columbia’s gym absolutely transports me back to my experience in England, and not in a good way, either. This is not to say that people in NYC do not care about working out; on the contrary, they most certainly do. You will not see a more fit group of people than the runners in Central Park. If anyone ever tries to tell you that a body type is “unrealistic” or “impossible,” they should spend one afternoon walking amongst the Central Park joggers.

No, what I am referring to is Columbia University’s gym. Tuition to attend Columbia is a good $20,000, with student life fees amounting to around $1,000. For all of this money, I would expect a decently-equipped gym, and certainly one that does not make me feel depressed the moment I step inside the door. But here is the defining descriptor of Columbia University’s gymnasium: it is underground.

Now, I understand that I should not complain. After all, Time is housing me for free, and more than that, giving me free gym access for two months in New York City, the most expensive place to live (I am assuming) in the U.S. However, if you are going to build a gym underground, you had better give it amazing ventilation. Columbia’s gym has no air-flow. None. The air in that place is stagnant. And it is dark. And dingy. I am very interested to know when it was built. (I guess all of this researching for This Old House is starting to rub off a bit.)

In any case, Columbia’s gym reminds me a great deal of gyms in England. And it makes me miss that country.