Fitness

Fitness is a funny thing. Something which mankind used to uphold quite easily a million years ago now costs £40 a month in gym memberships and a low carb diet.

We used to run around killing dinosaurs and now we get a sweat on watching people do it on films. While chomping on Ben & Jerry's and Minstrels! This is probably more expensive than the gym, but that's for another blog!

In general, you go to the gym. Feel inadequate for an hour or two and then go home and eat crisps. Or is that just me? Either way, I'll run you through the experience, bit by bit.

So first of all, you sign the form which basically said if you're killed during your trip to the gym, it's your fault. Not the equipment, the staff or the serial killer that's been hiding in the male showers!

You start with a warm up on the treadmill! Running at about 9.5 whatevers until 5 minutes, and then upping it by 0.5 whatevers every further minute! This is all well and good when you're, say, not a fat fucker. Me though? Well....

After that, there's the weights machine. You'll stand there lifting what you feel is a considerably heavy amount while next to you, a bouncer who lives behind the cross-trainers is lifting a people carrier. Onto the next lot then!

Excercise mats! You can do sit ups, press ups. Even forward rolls. But then this means lying on the floor in a gym full of sexy people and panting while you attempt to excercise a muscle which is restricted by the ale gut your trying to get shut of!

Then you have the swimming pool. Or the jacuzzi in Joey language. You can't beat getting in the aquapool, then the sauna, steam room, etc. Although it's probably just a good way of resting those muscles I've done in whilst trying to fix them. Irony? I think so!