Monday, 14 May 2012

"What are you training for?" "LIFE!!!"

Morning campers, did everybody sleep well?

Oh, that's thrilling! Anyway, back to me...

I recently decided that my fitness levels were too low and my measurements too high. To combat this, I spent a couple of days living on dust and fresh dreams, this made me want to taser people more than usual.

Then coincidentally, I remembered that every month some money disappears from my bank account, and goes to someone called "La Fitness". After much investigation, I discovered that La Fitness is not a french magazine or even a porn site, it's a gym! And, apparently i'm a member!

Being a member of LA Fitness is a bit like being a member of Shoreditch House. It has a pool and lots of pretentious, skinny people. However, they outright refuse to serve you a martini, and there is no one to buy coke off in the toilets.

Just kidding, there is. Her name is Linda, tell her I sent you.

After checking the location of this LA Fitness place, I remembered I had actually been there several times before, but I had been calling it "The Sunbeds". So off I wandered, to a magical place where people gather to get tanned and skinny and show off their lycra onesies.

On first arrival I must admit I was slightly disappointed. I looked quite out of place in my thong leotard, neon sweatbands and leg warmers, and came to the conclusion that dance music videos are not a good referencing tool for gym attire inquiries.

Crossing the threshold I turned left (opposite direction from where they keep the sunbeds and salon) and was greeted by a gargantuan pit of sweating, heaving men...a sight I very rarely see when I am sober enough to remember my own name and have enough money for a taxi. 

Nevertheless, I made my way over to the running machine (I had seen these on films!) and proceeded my exhausting work out. 20 minutes later, feeling half a stone lighter, I had a quick 10 minutes on the sunbeds and took myself proudly home.

Feeling like I was getting the hang of this exercise lark, I decided to attend something called "Body Step", one of the many timetabled classes at LA Fitness. Yes, that's right! There are fun activities available constantly between the hours of 7am and 9pm! As I realise this, I begin to think this place is like a holiday camp for adults with body dismorphia. After attending the class however, I realise it isn't at all...

...It's a holiday camp for bored, middle class housewives who, after sending their children off to school and beating their Filipino maid with a broom, realise there's little else to do. So, off they trot to enjoy class after class, stopping only to allow a part of their soul to die as they receive yet another lazily spelled text message from Mr. Bored Middle Class Housewife: 'workng late, i'll eat at th office cx'.

I'll never be a housewife. The only person who'll meet me at the end of an aisle is that fucking security guard in Tesco who always catches me with Pick n Mix, and the only thing that will ever grow inside me is MY HATRED OF THE WEST.......Shut up, this is so innap.....ALLAH AKBAHHH...I'm not going to tell you ag..DEATH TO THE...GET BACK IN MY HEAD JIHADIST ME!!!... all got a bit weird's still a bit awkward isn't it?...let's have a short interval...

She's well fitter than that Eric Prydz slag.

Anyway, Body Step. Basically, a class led by a man who makes Gok Wan look like Kurt Cobain. Taking the cheesiest songs from your nan's youth, he manages to translate any lyric into a vaguely erotic motivational exclamation.

"Yes ladies, that's right! YOU just can't get enough!... YES! We're rising up the challenge of our rivals ladies!!! ...OOOOO Barbara, the old grey mare ain't what she used to be...SHE'S BETTER!!"

Yeah. He's the devil.

I've decided to stay away from him because LA Fitness seems like the type of place to have a "you break it, you buy it" policy, and his tiara and wand both look expensive.

My gym experiences haven't all been horrible however. There was an absolute God in the pool at the same time as me last week, though I don't think I have much of a chance with him...We passed each other at the exact moment I considered the idea that he, the elderly overweight woman in the yellow swimming cap and myself were all just taking a massive bath together...

...Now i'm just the mental twat who laughs menacingly in the deep end and nearly drowns herself, only to emerge seconds later from the watery depths...still laughing.

He left the pool area shortly after this episode.

 Off to cash converters to see if there's any reasonably priced tiaras.
...or tasers


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