Bluedam’s BodyBlog

I finally succumbed and joined a gym. It was part of the pre-nuptuials as I recently got married. Basically my wife had tired of tripping over weights, listening to my breathing and moaning lifting weights at ungodly hours as and seeing me disappear at important conversation points to pump iron.

So of I went and got the initial tour. Well impressed with the set up the guy who showed me around, reminded me of poor old Gill out of The Simpsons, didn’t have too much convincing to do and seem shocked that his sales techniques had worked.

On the whole I am loving it but a couple of things are starting to irk. When you go out for a couple of beers and you end up with the same bladder control as another punter you invariably get on the same bathroom brakes as someone else and it ends up being a little akward. Well the same thing is happening me and is now not akward just pissing me off. The guy seems to be on the same programme and seems to want to compete. I couldnt give a f%$K which is seeming to egg him on even more. 

Then there is the chatterboxes. Christ can some people talk. I used to unfairly pin the blame on women but the lads seem to be the worse culprits. I was on the cross trainer and these two punters kept talking across me about what session they were doing, the time it would take, how you weigh yourself in kgs, yappy yappy yappy. So my ipod shuffle gets turned up another notch.

Which leads me onto my next point. The music in the gym is so terrible it would make your ears bleed. Not I admit my taste is extreme and ranges from rage against the machine, tool and Marilyn Manson to the rolling stones, U2 and a bit of the zep. I cannot however comprehend how anyone could enjoy the music that is being played. I am all for high tempo but the time warp human league and wham numbers are really beginning to grate. 

The fashions are something to behold also. Now I will freely admit that my wife has saved me from many the faux pas but I burst out laughing the other day when I seen a guy with jeans on a treadmill. Another day I seen this bloke wearing a seoul olympics t-shirt. Now you are probably thinking retro but it bore the marks and tears of an original. God knows what he was thinking. You are gaurenteed that he is one of those that doesnt wipe the machines after use.

Now I am concious that this is coming across as very negative and seeing that this is my first post I’ll have to mention a positive. The swimming pool is class even though I look a right clown in my pinkish cap (only one they had left I was told with a smirk). Also my wife seems much happier as she can now have the place to clean, I get in the way you see. Also I seem to have more time even though I’m spending more excercising. That must to be down to my short attention span which invariably means Ive left the euro in the locker again!