500 Word Review: The Plex

Ah, the William P. Flynn Recreational Complex. What a beauty to marvel at. Whatever drugs the architect of this building was on, I’d love to try some; the weird pyramid-structure roof makes it seem like he designed it in the dark. The best part is that there must have been dozens of design options to choose from and the higher-ups at BC selected the one that Ray Charles drew up. Baffling.

There are two kinds of people in this world: those who readily admit to people-watching in the Plex and liars. There are few places better to observe your fellow Eagles as they desperately try to burn off the pair of burgers that they consumed while on the verge of blacking out at yesterday’s tailgate or the prepackaged assortment of Tuscan chickens at the Pops on Friday. (New drinking game: take a shot every time you see a kid in his high school lacrosse shirt doing curls. Try not to die.)

If you’re like me you put your headphones in and spend half your time scrolling through your Soundcloud workout playlist/looking around to see who showed up today. The other half is spent halfheartedly going through a myriad of exercises and waiting for benches and machines until you realize that an hour’s gone by and it’s time to go back to the dorm where your foam mattress pad is calling your name.

If you kept going to the Plex throughout September, I commend your efforts. God bless you. BC needs some form of compensation for the struggles that we endured. Working out in sauna-like conditions was a legitimate health hazard. $64,000/year later and still no air conditioning? The Vornado in my room is more powerful than the fans that populate the place. Be better. A part of me died while I sweated out half my body weight in the 7th circle of Hell aka Court 1.

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With the onset of chillier weather comes the decline in Plex attendance as those who began the year with dreams of working themselves back into shape slowly trade in their gym shoes for the comfort of sweatpants and mozzarella sticks. The Plex on a dreary winter day is one of the more depressing things one will ever see. Freshmen completing the trek from Upper shaking a layer of snow off of their new Patagonias, my fellow sophomores from CoRo mumbling bitterly about how life would be infinitely better if they didn’t have to risk their lives walking down the iced-over million dollar stairs, seniors wondering if the “new” Plex is just a figment of their imaginations. The sadness is contagious.

The Plex. Can’t live with it, can’t live without it.

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