Today I went to the gym. 'The gym?', you may question, 'but why?'. I shall tell you why! There was a drama workshop I was subjected to, and that's right, I'd rather risk a heart attack then face a nouveau, ponce, "creator" (they don't like to refer to themselves as 'actors'), self-professed lunatic make me walk around a room in circles reciting King Lear to relate to a character that I shall never have the pleasure of performing. Oh, and unless I've mentioned, pay £12 for it.
I excused myself with a dentist appointment, an adequate lie, much like other well known lies, such as: "no, it's more maroon than purple", "the dog ate my homework", and "yes, you are the first guy to ever make me really orgasm". I proceeded to leave the theatre and make my way towards the gym, after changing in front a load of bitchy year 8's wondering why this fat cow doesn't have better things to be doing with her obviously busy schedule. I covered up my huge tree trunk thighs and stomped out of there.
The gym is a truly frightening place, there are loads of metal objects with white wash walls and unnaturally placed rave music playing from a small stereo in the corner, much like a tacky brothel really. There were already two men working out on the rowing machine and the running machine. At first I thought I better not come near these folks, as I sincerely didn't want to fuck with their extremely precious 'zone'. I thought I better acquire a 'zone' as well, so I headed towards the bike-like machine, that simulates all the worst parts of taking to a bike - the exercise. I set the timer and of I cycled '30 minutes, walk in the park', I thought naively to myself. 5 minutes in and I was struggling. I stopped after 20 minutes and when I heaved myself of the seat I seemed to have lost the feeling in my legs and stumbled like a gunned-down, semi-conscious moose over to the taps. Someone had rigged it and I sprayed water all over myself, at this point it was a blessing.
I returned to my everest and decided that perhaps some weights. Well that was horrific. I must have given myself some sort of minor hernia. I mixed yoga with lifting and ended up with a dramatic struggle against the rope. After 24 seconds I decided that this challenging machine simply wasn't for me, let alone anyone that can't lift an elephant.
I ran to the running machine in an ironic fashion, as the gentlemen that appeared to have far more stamina than I, judged away. I jumped on, I set myself to a sort of fast walk and just to mix things up a bit, I let myself climb a steep hill at the same time. Before I knew it I was sweating, it felt as though I had just dived in to an artificial pool of testosterone. I wanted to run for as long as the men had, to regain some sense of dignity that I've probably lost to them in other exercise based activities. I hadn't been to the gym in two years before today. I went for the full 25 minutes. However, everything went downhill (literally) when I got of the machine, I felt as though I'd somehow overdosed on coke, killed my baby and not slept in 3 consecutive days. My heart was pacing and I mused that perhaps I'd die at the feet of an egotistical male, as he flaunted his ability to be just that bit better than me. I stumbled to the P.E. office (although I didn't feel very physically educated) and collapsed by the door. I was hauled in and kept there until my eyesight returned. The good looking teacher walked by my crumpled form, I was a wheezing, husky dog, lapping water from a bowl. In a weird way, I hoped they'd find this slightly attractive.
So, to conclude, on a plight to satisfy my radically feminist ideas I nearly died at the feet on a man. I'm now going to lie on the couch, eat some ice cream, and watch 'My Big Fat Gypsy Wedding'.
I excused myself with a dentist appointment, an adequate lie, much like other well known lies, such as: "no, it's more maroon than purple", "the dog ate my homework", and "yes, you are the first guy to ever make me really orgasm". I proceeded to leave the theatre and make my way towards the gym, after changing in front a load of bitchy year 8's wondering why this fat cow doesn't have better things to be doing with her obviously busy schedule. I covered up my huge tree trunk thighs and stomped out of there.
The gym is a truly frightening place, there are loads of metal objects with white wash walls and unnaturally placed rave music playing from a small stereo in the corner, much like a tacky brothel really. There were already two men working out on the rowing machine and the running machine. At first I thought I better not come near these folks, as I sincerely didn't want to fuck with their extremely precious 'zone'. I thought I better acquire a 'zone' as well, so I headed towards the bike-like machine, that simulates all the worst parts of taking to a bike - the exercise. I set the timer and of I cycled '30 minutes, walk in the park', I thought naively to myself. 5 minutes in and I was struggling. I stopped after 20 minutes and when I heaved myself of the seat I seemed to have lost the feeling in my legs and stumbled like a gunned-down, semi-conscious moose over to the taps. Someone had rigged it and I sprayed water all over myself, at this point it was a blessing.
I returned to my everest and decided that perhaps some weights. Well that was horrific. I must have given myself some sort of minor hernia. I mixed yoga with lifting and ended up with a dramatic struggle against the rope. After 24 seconds I decided that this challenging machine simply wasn't for me, let alone anyone that can't lift an elephant.
I ran to the running machine in an ironic fashion, as the gentlemen that appeared to have far more stamina than I, judged away. I jumped on, I set myself to a sort of fast walk and just to mix things up a bit, I let myself climb a steep hill at the same time. Before I knew it I was sweating, it felt as though I had just dived in to an artificial pool of testosterone. I wanted to run for as long as the men had, to regain some sense of dignity that I've probably lost to them in other exercise based activities. I hadn't been to the gym in two years before today. I went for the full 25 minutes. However, everything went downhill (literally) when I got of the machine, I felt as though I'd somehow overdosed on coke, killed my baby and not slept in 3 consecutive days. My heart was pacing and I mused that perhaps I'd die at the feet of an egotistical male, as he flaunted his ability to be just that bit better than me. I stumbled to the P.E. office (although I didn't feel very physically educated) and collapsed by the door. I was hauled in and kept there until my eyesight returned. The good looking teacher walked by my crumpled form, I was a wheezing, husky dog, lapping water from a bowl. In a weird way, I hoped they'd find this slightly attractive.
So, to conclude, on a plight to satisfy my radically feminist ideas I nearly died at the feet on a man. I'm now going to lie on the couch, eat some ice cream, and watch 'My Big Fat Gypsy Wedding'.
