Anyone who knows me, knows I’m an over-thinker. I even wrote about over-thinking during yoga and decided silent, peaceful moments aren’t for me. So I joined a gym with lots of music. Fitness First. Yes, me.
1. The gym costs how much?!
It ain’t cheap – but I also crumble from sales peer pressure. I’m currently paying around $150 a month for access to 2 gyms and that isn’t cheap. However, in my quest for fitness, I’ve realised I need people to yell at me, and tell me what to do. It’s like being in Nazi Germany for an hour – terrifying and effective.
2. Gym clothes cost how much?!
Honestly, what are gym clothes made of?? A pair of pants cost $80, a top costs $50 – and that’s just to start with. Let’s not even go to the cost of sports bras – honestly, was it hand-sewn by monks in remote Tibet or something?
3. That was just the warm-up?!
3 minutes into the workout: OMG, I’m so good at this, I feel GREAT!
5 minutes into the workout: It must be an hour already, I’m going to die, I need a rub-down and coconut water.
4. Sometimes you just want to dance.
My favourite part of the Les Mills programmes is the damn music. Sometimes, the jam is just too good, so I end up doing my own thing at the back of the room. And yes, I’ve tried Zumba and didn’t know what the cha-cha was all about – I’m only 25 years old, you know.
5. I punch myself in the face.
This has happened several times now during a Combat class. And maybe a Pump class. Ok, maybe in all the classes. “Focus on your retraction”, they said. “Bring your fists back to your face”, they said.
6. My boobs are everywhere.
If it requires jumping or running on the spot, I WILL hold on to my breasts. I don’t care if it looks super weird or if the instructor is holding back her laughter… a girl’s gotta take care of her girls.
7. Sports Bras.
Which brings me to my next point: Sports bras. Men (or flat-chested women) clearly invented most of the sports bras out there. If you have anything over a B cup, you would know the struggle of putting on a cross back bra (it’s delicately shoving one boob in there at a time). Even worse are the ones which hook from behind. I don’t live in Downton Abbey, I don’t have a plethora of hand maidens just standing by to get me into my active wear. A major shout-out to Under Armour for making a proper zip-front sports bra (in cup sizes!) that straps my puppies down.
8. Everyone else is WAY better.
There’s always that ONE person who’s the fucking high-achiever in the class, and you’re there at the back, questioning all your choices in life, trying not die.
Have fun exercising just so you can validate the crap you stuff in your mouth.