I've started going back to the gymn.
Self defense really. It was either make use of the xxxx squids I pay each month or buy a new set of trousers. Besides which, I was starting to get a bit puffed out just by walking up the ramp to the station. As for my weight - I've started measuring how light I am when I go to the gymn and I must be the only person to have 20kg iPod. It must be the iPod - I can't really weigh THAT much.
Before you start making comments about 'why don't you just go for a jog around your neighbourhood', I must point out that my neighbourhood is bounded on one side by a motorway (jogging on THAT would be exciting but brief) and on the other side by the type of area which could be rather nicely summed up as a muggers paradise. It's not that it's rough, it's just that the sight of a middle aged guy puffing his way round the alleyways must be an irrestitable invitation to try out your latest punchbag techniques
So, I go to the gymn - more expensive but supposedly safer.
I say 'supposedly'.
The gymn I go to is one of these whizz bang modern ones with the fancy cardiovascular exercise machines. You stand/sit on them, grab hold of the silver handles and start exercising; the machine then tells you what your heart rate is and if you have chosen to exercise to a particular heart rate, will adjust the level of difficulty to keep your heart rate below the required amount.
I realised how unfit I was when I got on the machine and it told me to slow down to reduce my heart rate to acceptable level - and I hadn't even started. It was probably the walk up the stairs that did it.
They're great fun, these machines; You get on them, program them for a 20 minute excercise, it asks you questions about how heavy you are and what your age is, you slap it around the chops for being so personal, then enter in the numbers, it sniggers and tells you that for that weight the acceptable heart rate is 0, you slap it again and it gives you a more reasonable figure of 135. You then set your iPod to 'play' and after about 5 minutes you drift off into a mindless limbo (which is pretty well near my normal state of mind anyway).
15 minutes later you drift back to reality only to discover that whilst you had drifted off you had been increasing your exercise speed and according to the machine your heart rate is over the limit for your age (in my case, that's about 155 - the heart rate that is, not my age). Still If it doesn't kill me I'm sure it's doing me good.
Mind you, some of the machines are lethal. The machine I usually go for is the ski trainer- the action involves feet and arms, is a bit like running on skis and is a gentle motion that doesn't require much brainpower. The machine to avoid is the classic running machine. This must be the subject of more law suits than the National Enquirer. If you don't keep to PRECISELY the right speed you ram into the control board at the front or rocket off the back. Any lapse in concentration has you lurching all over the shop trying to retain control of a set of limbs that have declared UDI and decided to go off on their separate ways, usually one heading for the front and the other for the back. To cap it all, the later machines can tilt up so you end up running uphill frantically trying to coordinate limbs, arms and torso to stay vertical and midway between painful crotch collisions and starship one backflips.
I don't use the running machines.
After a bit of cardiovascular suicide - sorry - exercise - there's the weight machines. These are usually modern day torture mechanisms that employ a system of ropes, pulleys and weights to cripple you. The system goes like this.
- You sit at the machine and realise that a dwarf or a giant was on the machine before you.
- You search for the adjustment lever
- You adjust the seat, trapping your fingers on the adjustment mechanism in the process.
- You look at the weight the previous person used.
- Either they're superman's relative or they're lying. You select a more realistic weight - 2 kg is my favourite
- You grab hold of the bars and push/pull/raise/lower
- You let go of the bars and massage your strained muscles.
- You halve the weight
- You grab hold of the bars and push/pull/raise/lower
- After 5 goes you stop, halve the weight again and then continue.
- You complete the required two cycles of 12 pushes/pulls/ raise /lower
- You get up off the machine, stagger 2 paces and fall over.
- You pretend to do 3 pressups, get to one and a half and give up.
- You go and have a shower
Even the showers are a bit of a challenge. Not for us these old fashioned taps - our showers are controlled by infra-red movement detectors. Wave your hand in front of the 'eye' and the shower starts. Wave it again and the shower stops. After a time the shower stops automatically.
Now I've already commented on the ability of technology to cock things up.
a) You get nicely lathered up, good bit of suds on your head, ream your ears out, face and eys covered in soap, shower switches off. You're left floundering around trying to find out where your switch is and doing a really good impresssion of 'the monster rises from the deep', and believe me, Bill sans clothes is not a sight you want to see after you've just had your lunch.
b) You finish showering, grab hold of your towel, swish it over your head to dry your back off, shower switches on again and gives the towel a nice thorough soaking
Even more fun is the challenge of getting back to your locker across a floor that is made of these patented non slip tiles that weren't tested in typical conditions and which have turned into a polar bear's skating paradise with all the water and soap on them. Almost as bad as the running machines for encouraging uncoordinated gymnastics
The advert for my gymn says 'Exercise for a full and active lifestyle'. What it should say is 'Only come here if your coordination is better than average and you're superbly fit'.
Still - it keeps the other customers entertained.
