Here Come the Trainers

By ANN BLACKMAN MOSCOW

It is 10:30 on a crisp Saturday morning, and exercise instructor Ludmilla Fedina is barking orders like a drill sergeant. "Don't be lazy. You have five more seconds," she cries to Luba Yeremeeva, 27, a machine-tool worker who is pumping away on a Soviet-made stationary bike. Galina Usochina, 47, a factory engineer, turns red as borscht as she works out on a rowing machine. And retiree Zinaida Kolmakova flashes a gold-toothed grin while she demonstrates how, at 61, she can do a dozen chin-ups. Business is brisk at the Krylatskoya Physical Fitness Clinic in west Moscow.

Down the hall, Dr. Irina Arkhangelskaya, who has lost 92 lbs. in the past year and now weighs in at 170, hands a list of foods, with their calorie content, to Ludmilla Makarova, a new client who needs help planning a diet. Makarova, who works in a mirror factory, grimaces as she notes that the suggested daily menu forbids noodles, sausage and sweets. "And no pickles," Arkhangelskaya cautions. "They are high in salt."

More and more Soviets are heeding such warnings these days, as a new concern about health and fitness sweeps the country. Dozens of state-run and private aerobics centers have cropped up in large cities. A television station in Moscow runs a 15-min. program called Morning Gymnastics at 8 daily, and another show, Aerobics, appears several afternoons each week. Popular journals are carrying more articles about controlling that well-known artery clogger kholesterine. Perhaps not coincidentally, the slim, fashionable Raisa Gorbachev, who travels regularly with her husband, is projecting a new image for the Soviet woman.

While it would be an exaggeration to say thin is in, there's no question that Soviets are becoming more conscious of how they look. "My husband told me I'm fat and dowdy," says a 30-year-old schoolteacher between sit-ups at the Krylatskoya clinic. "We've been married ten years, and he's started jogging. So I have to lose weight too." Galina Promyslova, 36, a culinary technician, shakes her head disgustedly and says, "I want to get rid of these hips."

The change in attitude is much needed. Soviet doctors estimate that as much as 50% of the population is seriously overweight. Says Dr. Vasili Vorobyev, chairman of a year-old private fitness clinic in Moscow that serves 600 clients a day: "More Soviet people die from the medical problems associated with being overweight than from any other cause." Now, explains Arkhangelskaya, "our people have a new interest in losing weight, and health centers like this one are growing." Doctors at the fitness center, one of six state-run clinics in Moscow, see 80 to 100 customers a day. Cost: $3.20 for an hour in the gym. Most of the customers seem pleased. "I've lost 20 lbs. and have 20 to go," says Russian-language teacher Tatiana Sarycheva, 28, as she slides up and down on a yellow abacus-like machine designed to massage away fat. Besides offering classes in exercise and diet planning, the clinic employs less conventional methods of weight control, including hypnosis and even acupuncture.

The clients at the fitness clinics are predominantly female. Despite the difficulty of buying chic clothes, Soviet women are quite fashion conscious and seem more interested than men in keeping their figures. Moreover, most men prefer to exercise outdoors rather than in a fitness center.

Even with its growing popularity, the fitness movement still faces major hurdles. For one thing, it is difficult to maintain a healthy diet because of the country's chronic food shortages. Fresh fruit and vegetables are scarce, even in summer, and bread, sausage and potatoes are the staples of daily life. Moreover, Soviet doctors do not think the government has given enough attention or resources to the drive for good health. Dr. Vorobyev, who has written a best-selling book called Components of Health, advocates a "national campaign for fitness" and is working on a plan to set up kiosks , on city streets where people can pick up diet advice, be weighed or have their blood pressure checked. Says he: "I want to put a scale in every factory, in every movie theater and at every bus stop."