Handy tips on how to lose friends at the gym
I fear I have been spending too much of my time at the gym. So much so it feels like a second home. There is now a well worn path from my house through the park and ending at the gym.
You’d think one of two things would happen given that I am spending so much time there.
1. I would by now possess the abs of Pink
2. I would know what the correct gym etiquette is
3. I would be ripped – did I say that already? Well I am feeling pretty hard done to on the count
Neither of these things have happened.
1. Not sure why I do not possess the abs of Arnie as yet given that as I type my stomach muscles are paying me back big style for the punishment I unleashed on them over the last couple of days, yet they insist on hiding away somewhere behind my kidneys. Maybe they are shy abs.
Yes that’s it I have shy abs syndrome.
To be honest though, shy abs syndrome seems to be the least of my worries however after my experiences over the last few weeks.
Which brings me onto number 2.
2. Not only do I not know the correct gym etiquette I seem to completely ignore it.
Or . . and to be perfectly honest the most likely of the options :-
I know the correct gym etiquette but somehow manage to plough right through it even though I try not to.
CASE STUDY – hellish boxing class a few weeks ago.
This is a different boxing class to the one I previously blogged about but every bit as horrendous.
I wasn’t feeling too well so I thought I would take it easy and be proactive by telling the teacher I was just going to go on my own on the bag in the corner. She was fine with this and seemed happy to leave me to it.
The class started and she invited me to join her on stage if I felt up to it. Really watcha gonna do in front of the class wimp out? Not me!
I started boxing with her and was getting pretty tired due to her constant pummelling, only for the tallest man I have ever seen to walk into the room on his own, meaning the class was now at even numbers, so guess what! the teacher asked me to partner him because everyone else was in a couple.
It wasn’t a request either.
Seriously he was the tallest man I have ever seen and trying to spar with someone who you practically have to jump to reach makes things a little more difficult than your average boxing class.
He wasn’t a talker either and when I tried to engage him by laughing at my ineptitude all I received in return was a yes you are rubbish face and a roll of his eyes. If I am not mistaken I could have sworn he raised his hands just that little bit higher to make it even more difficult. It wasn’t even like he was very good either his coordination was as bad as mine. Which meant a lot of air punching while I went one way and he went the other.
Next he had to kneel and punch up while I leant over so he could punch my pads. (Not a euphemism).
That gym etiquette we were talking about?
Word of warning – Don’t let your sweat drip off your head and right into your boxing partners eye – it doesn’t go down well.
I tried to make light of it, I attempted to laugh it off – didn’t work.
I tried apologising profusely – didn’t work.
He hasn’t spoken to me since even going so far as actively avoiding me, I saw him dodge me the other day.
And I have never seen him at another boxing class . . . .
I mean talk about overreaction right, we all do it don’t we?
. . . .Oh, just me then.