I have a long and storied relationship with the gym. When I say that, I mean that I have signed up several times to various gyms, with plenty of early enthusiasm, and then … just stopped going. We all know why we don’t want to go to gyms – the music is terrible, the dudes who go there are irritatingly muscly, the exercise machines are covered in other people’s sweat, and working out by yourself is just hard work and dull. There is zero upside – except of course the potential fitness gains that made us sign up in the first place.
The first time I cancelled a gym membership I thought about it for way too long beforehand (racking up a few more months’ fees) as I was trying to think of what to say when they asked me why I was quitting. The obvious answer – “I just can’t be bothered” – was too humiliating. Eventually I came up with something and rocked up to announce my decision.
“And why are you choosing to leave the gym?” the young man at the front desk asked me, pen poised over my gym-cancelling paperwork. I paused, then answered, “Because I’ve reached physical perfection.” His eyes widened, flicked over my physique and then back to the paperwork. “OK,” he said.
A few years later I joined another gym, one of those 24-hour ones, telling myself that I would be attending very often with such easy access. The first wrong note sounded during the brief orientation. After pointing out the rowing machine and the kettlebells, the bulging staff member who was showing me around (I’m not against all muscly men on principle, I just think that sometimes they can take it a little far) waved a hand at the wall. “If there’s a medical emergency, there’s the defibrillator,” he said.
It turns out that because the gym was open all hours but only staffed for a few of them, it was up to me to save the lives of my fellow gym-goers should one of them have a heart attack mid-workout. Fabulous!
Not to be deterred by this extra responsibility on top of honing my glutes, pecs and what I believe are called deltoids, I signed up for a free introductory personal training session. The gent who had shown me the ropes got me to use some of the machines, then handed me a heavy bar with huge weights on each end.
“Oh this one’s quite heavy,” I murmured as I attempted to lift it above my head.
“TWO MORE!” he yelled.
For all the latest Life Style News Click Here
For the latest news and updates, follow us on Google News.