All the gear, no idea
You’ve hit Lululemon hard and are a vision in all the latest cute kit with your dynamic support bras, partially gauze super-stretch leggings, state of the art trainers and sweat-resistant tops (plus a Missoni headband thrown in for good measure). You’ve got fitbits and work out targets and you turn up to the gym on a regular basis to then slightly drift about, admiring your lovely outfit in the mirror, drinking Evian while you vaguely bounce on a Swiss ball and read Grazia on the cross trainer.
The last chance lunger
OMG, you’re paying all this money to be a member and you never go – and now your body feels like it’s subsiding like a melting ice cream and if you don’t do something about it, you’ll end up morbidly obese and having to be craned out of your house. In your panic, you roar off to the gym in your trackies and the Spice Girls 2007 Reunion Tour t-shirt you usually sleep in to a spinning class. Five minutes in you feel sick. Ten minutes in, you think you might die. You walk home like someone has removed the bones from your legs and do not return for another six months.
You are up with the larks and have usually already gone for a run by the time you get to the gym. You listen to uplifting power music as you train, moving about the gym like a predatory shark, intimidating the other exercisers with your thorough knowledge of the bench press and impressive ability to maintain your speed on the rowing machine. You barely even break a sweat – but you could break a man’s neck between your thighs.
You sit on a bench with a superlight weight in your hand and just stare at people. You become fixated with the man making noises like he’s dragging a plane as he lifts free weights. You stare at the incredible woman doing all those press-ups. You lie down and stare at the ceiling for a bit. You stare at the clock. Then you go home.
You do remember your induction where they showed you how this machine works and then they wrote it all down, obviously, and yet….how does it work again? You stand around for a bit pressing things and then find yourself running really quite fast uphill on the treadmill because you don’t know how to make it stop. You hang off the lat pull like a monkey thinking it’s for your quads and heave the leg press against your shoulders thinking it’s for your back. You go home feeling pleased after your thorough work out.