Circus arts: Danger from above

“I don’t mean to sound grim, but people die doing this,” the bald man says, his goateed face looking grave and his legs folded into lotus position.

A liberal, not rich man’s ode to a country club gym

I'm cutting coupons now, but it wasn't always so. I grew up in a midtown neighborhood with wide streets and big houses, and I learned to play tennis and squash (like tennis but with smaller racquets and larger bank accounts) at a country club around the corner where two previous generations of my dad's family did the same.

Training with an Olympic bobsledder

The basic idea was for me to do an off-season bobsled training routine with Elana Meyers. I had no idea what this would entail, and was given no hints, but showed up ready for just about anything.

Jogging on Jameson

Once in a while, I find myself running—occasionally from someone, or as part of an annual St. Patrick's day pub run, but more often late at night to sober up—with alcohol in my system.

This ain’t no party, this ain’t no disco

Some people say you should tape a picture of Marisa Miller or Cameron Diaz on your fridge if you want some visual motivation to stay fit and forgo the bon-bons. But I got the hint in person, in the form of two women in hot pants, fishnets and fur legwarmers, go-go dancing to A-Ha at Club Chaos.

The benefits (and drawbacks) of nocturnal weight-lifting

I arrived at Workout Anytime, a gym in a Buckhead strip mall, near Frank Ski's Restaurant and Lounge, at 3:14 this morning. A normal-ish kind of person works out as late as midnight and as early as 5:30 a.m., I figured, having done so a few times myself. But who works out in the vampirish hours between?

Witzlib VS. BLAST900

Take a look at how Buckhead fitness newcomer Witzlib measures up against its neighbor and rising heavyweight BLAST900.

Seeing orange at a new gym

Wrapped around my torso using a strap that presses directly against the skin, the monitor was slightly uncomfortable. But it made me feel like the subject of an experiment. That was kind of cool. And kind of true: the experiment was my own, though.

Running the Publix Half-Marathon

“Don’t poop your pants.”This certainly is sage advice, though I’ll admit I was surprised to see it imparted on a handwritten sign, held up by a spectator, at the Publix Half-Marathon this past Sunday.

Work-a-cise

In this brave new world of oddball and doctor-disapproved exercise regimens—where people use electric shocking belts in their desperate attempts to develop six-pack stomachs—there must be a product that can help sedentary lawyers fulfill their office-bound dreams of chiseled bodies, right?

Follow Us

69,386FansLike
144,836FollowersFollow
493,480FollowersFollow

NEWSLETTERS