There are a few newbies in the gym at the moment; it’s that time of year. That can make it a little more crowded than usual, but the benefit is that you can watch other people and tut a satisfied tut. Today, as I (successfully) concentrated on keeping my heart rate over 150, I couldn’t help notice a girl (who, to be fair, didn’t look like she needed to work out that hard) dawdling on a treadmill. I’ve no doubt she walks a good deal faster when she’s visiting Tesco (even pushing a trolley). Obviously, you never, ever comment on anybody else’s workout. But I was relatively late in the gym today (i.e. post 9am) and so the hardcore wrestlers were in. One muscle bound freak took to the bike next to me and said; ‘If you wanna be like me you’ll have to up the resistance.’
‘Yeah, right,’ I said. ‘Whatever.’ But if I thought the gym would make me look like a muscle bound freak I’d have given up long ago. Look how it shrinks your tackle.