babble, exercise, fitness, gym

In Which I’ve Rejoined The Gym

When my parents were away in Spain, I ordered takeaway.

Twice, even.

Once was pizza, and the second time was an Indian meal from this place that my parents aren’t keen on (don’t get me wrong: my parents love Indian food, but they’re just not keen on the restaurant. They don’t think they do the greatest food.) so it was a big treat for me to get food from there.

When the food arrived, the delivery driver was very nice, and smiled at me as he handed me the food, then walked down our stairs, took a few steps, and, just as I was about to close the door, turned and said, quickly:

“I remember you from Spinning! You no go anymore, why not?” (I’m trying to mimic his accent and speech pattern. I’m not trying to be racist! D:)

Turns out, he was the awesome little dude who used to come in at the last minute and never actually pay attention to what the teacher was saying, but always gave the class 1000% effort. He just wanted to be on a Spin bike and listen to music.

I told him that I hadn’t been to the gym, or a class in a while, just… because.

“Well, I see you soon, in Blantyre, or Hamilton, no?”

I told him that he probably would, yes.

Since my friend Zero died, I’ve been meaning to rejoin the gym anyway. He was on my back about how much I bitched about myself. Told me that the only way I could get better, was to, you know, be better. The first month, the reason was valid: I needed to let my new tattoo heal.

Then, I was just making excuses.

Now, I’m all out of excuses.

So on Friday, I was going to see Dr. David about Mr. Cyst on my head, and I figured: I’m going to be out of the house, I might as well make the best use of the all-day bus ticket I’m paying for. I got off the bus at the bottom of my road, headed into the Jock Stein Centre, and signed back up for a gym membership – which includes the unlimited fitness classes, use of the swimming pools, and health spa thingies (saunas etc) in the leisure centres.

I don’t think it includes ice rinks, though, which is a good thing, because I’m pretty sure I’m still not ready for ice skating.

But, my point is:

I rejoined the gym.

I was sick of my excuses.

FATGIRLslim | In Which I Rejoin The Gym (Again, Again)