The Gym

"The Gym" is not a phrase which often passes my lips. For much, well all really, of my adult life, I have been a conscientious objector to the gym. All through school it was abundantly clear I was not sport inclined. For most of that time I believed I was being clever and practicing good civil disobedience as I refused to run around a track. The rest of the time I was being ashamedly lazy. (To be honest I still think that running should be reserved for fires.)
Thankfully, though, we can evolve. Here I can admit that I have been going to the gym for the last few weeks. Several things have motivated me, obviously a healthier lifestyle, jaffa cakes, it's now too cold to take the bike out, rain, Christmas, and perhaps most importantly, my accommodation fee includes membership to our sports center. So not going is a waste of money!
With mild irritation I endured the required gym orientation, but a combination of a very nice leader and my fascination with a treadmill that has a TV, and scales that measure in stones, something changed. Initially I was only interested in spending time with the stationary bikes, though now the bike is probably my least favorite thing to go on. I still never touch the treadmills. But, suddenly, I am over the idea of changing rooms, testosterone fueled weight lifters, and sweating in public, I am a convert. Now I say things like "I'm going to the gym." and even I think I've misheard.
I have happily made going to the gym part of my week. Weird.

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