I'd like to make one thing clear: I hate going to the gym. The last thing I want to do, morning or night, is leave my cozy apartment and trek through cold, dark Brooklyn to fight for a locker, a treadmill, and a place on the sweaty communal stretching mat to do sit-ups. But joining the gym was something I felt I had to do at the age of 23 as it became clear I could no longer solo-drink a case of PBR without any physical repercussions. So I joined Crunch, and I go regularly (I have to, its expensive). So when the opportunity arose to take a week off the gym and supplement my exercise with a device I could use in my apartment that promised to make me "fit," I was obviously into it.
For those of you who don't now (I was once like you) Wii Fit (with balance board technology!) is a console designed to get video gamers off their asses and onto their feet with "activities" like Hula-Hooping and ski jumping, and features a body mass index analysis to get you going. Could this actually replace my gym membership? Could I pocket my $90 monthly membership fee and just buy this video game and end up shedding pounds, improving balance and becoming the lady I always wanted to be? Can 22.5 million Wii Fit owners be wrong? Maybe! But the prospect of getting exercise in my own apartment, away from the germs and crowds of the gym, was thrilling. So I began, no gym for a week, documenting and assessing my Wii fitness.
Day 1: Bringing the Wii console and balance board from my office, transferring trains twice and dragging it back to my apartment seemed like work out enough for one day, but I was excited so I decided to set-up the gear. This was a challenge unto itself. Home alone and not exactly tech savvy I struggled to set up my new toy. Finding the right plugs, setting up the board and controller, putting the disk in the console correctly, synching all the equipment, realizing I need new batteries, taking the batteries out of the remote control, still needing batteries, taking batteries out of the smoke detector, wrong size, walking to the bodega on the corner to get batteries, God, they are expensive, coming home, finally calling my brother to explain to me how to use the magic pointer controller (you can't be too close to the screen, which is a challenge in NYC-size apartments) then finally, FINALLY setting it all up. I am so over this, plus "Merry Christmas Charlie Brown" was on. Call it a night.
Day 2: I'm going to get this to work today. I am sore from carrying it around, a bad sign, certainly pointing out that I need more exercise. I pick out my, what is it, avatar? My Wii-Paige looks vaguely like me, though I don't think I'd ever work out in a blue skirt and pigtails but whatevs. I am told that I need take a fitness test, which reminds me of the "Presidential Fitness Tests" I had to take in gym class at my Catholic grammar school, rope climb-I'm already sweating from nerves. My BMI is measured, turns out I'm "normal," thanks. My translucent but buff Wii trainer, whom I've named Linus, tells me that people with "nomal" BMI's are less likely to get sick... score! Linus tells me its time for the "balance test"; I've been surfing and snowboarding my whole life so I feel pretty confident here. Not so much. According to Linus and the rest of the Wii team I have poor balance; I'm distraught. The fitness test has wrapped and Linus and co. have determined that, though I have the mind of a 23 year old (at best) my Wii age is 29-my body has out-aged me by six years! I'm already failing. But onto the Wii activities...
Celebrity Wii Avatars Generally Suck