Sunday, December 9, 2012
I have never been the fittest of people, there have been lucid moments of physical activity and where weight loss has come easy...Although I had to get divorced for that to happen.
So I thought to myself that since I am heading to the states at christmas and would like to explore the taste of "BBQ"..that I should at least make some attempt at dropping a few pounds. So I took myself off to "my" gym. You know, the place I have been a member of for the last 8 years and been to twice. (Once was Christmas day..and unbelievably it was closed)
Thankfully the car park is close to the front door so I am not completely buggered before I actually get in. Of course once inside I can feel the nausea starting as I peruse the mass of hot sweaty, and in most cases great bodies. You see, I am the before photo..I am the inspiration that keeps all the other gym goers working so hard. As I walk pass one of the trainers I casually mention if they know where the defibrillator is, just in case the 19 year old cheer leader that walked in the same time as me requires it.
This is where I start coming up with the excuses. I mean if some one says the inevitable "we haven't seen you for a while", I need to be prepared with an excuse. Of course theses excuses can vary from the sublime to the unbelievable. My favorite of course is that I have been on work transfer to the forests of Borneo and was unable to join the local gym due to it''s "Anti chubby white guy "policy. I also consider that my unofficial job as "Vodka Reviewer" can have a detrimental effect on my physique, although from experience this particular excuse is met with disdain.
Once in the gym I am all ready sweating, not from actually doing anything but from knowing that I am about to torture myself. The treadmill is my tool for warm up, but often my heart rate is all ready above 95 the time I get to it and I consider that the walk alone is adequate. (Actually playing Sudoku on my IPAD can see my heart rate above 110) After all I don't want to be completely exhausted before I try the circuit. I have splashed water on my face before leaving the mens room as this gives gives me that sweaty look...( I also find standing in the means steam room fully clothed has the same desired effect).
And then there is the circuit, thoughtfully invented by a torture specialist during the middle ages. Here I am put through a series of tortures especially designed to ensure I never walk like a normal human being again and that when I try to drink my afternoon vodka that I spill most of it from muscle spasms and shaking hand syndrome.
After all the torture is complete I crawl awkwardly back to the changing room, where I slip into the handicapped shower as I find this is a great place to shower while lying down.
As I leave I am disillusioned to discover that I am actually a kilo heavier than what I was when I walked in. Oh well, I can only hope next months work out has a better result....