Off to the torture chamber

Empty! Well it is hell in there.
Went to the gym for the first time in months. Yes I am at the stage where it is general disgruntlement with my body shape especially as it is summer – allegedly – and of course the last time I threw my body into a gym like direction was …well I can’t remember actually and as ever being an Aberdonian – renowned for being grippy – it was the money that got me there in the end. Refusing to pay for something I am not using even if I hate it I went.

No these are not mine - mine are worse
My gym bag has been in the car for a while so in I went, feeling nauseous at the thought of doing any quick movements. I unzipped the bag and took out my stuff. Black top, black sport bra, black sock, black everything (to hide the undulations ) including the track suit bottoms. As I unfolded them it became apparent they were damp when they had been hastily stuffed into the bags eons ago as I got an eau de fromage – the dreaded damp dank washing smell. Great I though I can’t go and waft these round the gymnastic emporium or I will be sent to Coventry (where I am pretty sure they don’t have gyms) but a quick glance down at the state of the legs and I thought – hell it’s 3pm who in their right mind is going to be in there anyway? And I was right. It was just me. Thankfully.

I managed the Step machine for 15 minutes wondered if my lung would collapse.
Of course I would have stayed on longer but a lone guy – the only other one in the place – climbed onto the machine adjacent and I didn’t want him to pass out with tracksuit bottom waft so off I went to the bike.

Well as I sat watching an Antique program lamenting the fact all I ever got at a car boot sale was a budgie cage and fleas I looked at the torture chamber around me and the day outside and thought. What am I doing? I am sitting on a bike in a gym looking out at the day instead of getting out there and enjoying it.
So I left.

20 minutes exercise, straight home, boil the gym clothes, into the shower and you know what …and you can’t imagine how much I hate to admit this ….I feel better. I do. Aye the Lord moves in mysterious ways indeed. I’m off out for a walk.


Writer & broadcaster.

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