I am of the opinion that when men get to a certain age, they should not expose their upper body in public. There is nothing worse than an age and beer ravaged pensioner brushing people aside with his sweaty, flabby, exposed stomach. The precise age at which men should cover up varies; by sixty definitely, and for some, much earlier. In my case, it was twelve.
It was around this time that I became aware that evolution had not provided me with a body that anyone would ever describe as a hunk. I took the pragmatic decision that I should keep the sight of my total lack of pecs, abs and other muscle groups to myself; and from that time I have managed to keep my body as a sacred temple, visited only by myself (and selected ladies of course, all of whom suffered from a form of emotional myopia).
The last three months have been spent doing bugger all as I waited for my broken back to heal. As a result I have lost 5 kilos and, whereas I used to do a reasonable impersonation of a stick insect, I now look like a stick insect that has undergone an extended period of fasting, and is now on hunger strike. This is not an attractive look, and even she who must be obeyed has expressed her displeasure at my spindly appearance. Something must be done, so I joined a gym.
In fact I joined two days ago but an excess of pizza and a lack of mental courage to actually do anything, meant that I vowed to “start tomorrow” (always a useful phrase). Yesterday was tomorrow and I went to the mall and bought myself an appropriate pair of shoes. She who must be obeyed was horrified that I dared to go shopping on my own, without her there to ensure I spent hours trying on many different styles and ending up with something I didn’t like and spending too much money.
I hope they’re not black, she said (knowing I like black and already have a black pair)
They are! (they’re not, but I love to wind her up)
I hope you didn’t really buy black! (she has this mildly threatening manner sometimes. If you were a country, you would fear invasion).
Of course I didn’t. pause They’re purple (she hates purple)
She makes a sort of strangled sound
Actually they are black with purple flashing
What’s wrong with white?
White sucks (actually I bought white, but she can find this out later)
Anyway, having had a trip to the mall, bought shoes, and spent time winding up my wife, I felt too drained to go to the gym. I’ll start tomorrow I decided and admired my decisiveness.
Tomorrow came today and I had run out of excuses, so I changed into shorts and a body-hiding T-shirt and headed for the gym. As I entered I could see people with bulging muscles doing impossible things with large weights and making grunting noises; these were not my sort of people. I entered the changing room and was confronted by a beast of a man standing naked in the changing area. He was covered in tattoos and muscles and it was impossible not to notice his genitals which would have fed a family of four for Xmas dinner.
“I will drive you from your land and relish the lamentations of your women” he said. Actually, he said “good morning” but from his tone I knew what he meant. I averted my gaze from the turkey dinner and donned my new shoes.
The next hour was a bit of blur. I was led from machine to machine and instructed to do “three sets of ten”, which I modified to “two sets of five” once the instructor had moved on. Each machine had a pile of weights attached to it and you decide how many you wanted to lift. I asked if I could just lift the piece of wire with no weights involved, but it was mandatory to use at least one.
I finished my session on a machine which copies the movement of walking on skis; legs and arms whizzing forwards and backwards in a manner guaranteed to knacker you. After ten minutes of that I crawled into the deserted aerobics rooms and lay on a mat, “to stretch my back” I told the attendant; “to have somewhere comfortable to die” I told myself.
Once normal heart rate and vision had been resumed, I had a shower without exposing my body to anyone, and headed for the door. “When will we see you again?” asked the attendant pleasantly.
“Tomorrow”.
Comments 🔗
2009-01-08| Billy saysVery amusing, could only be improved on by the addition of a pic or two of you “working out” ..
2009-01-09| Spike saysThis is a family publication, would not want to scare the children.
2009-01-09| jan saysVery pleased with outcome of your hospital visit - well done.
Advise you to avoid Gym. Barry and I lost 600 pound and only visited about 10 times in 2 years. As with all my good ideas they are based on the strange and unfounded belief that throwing money at a new craze improves the outcome.
2009-01-10| Spike saysLosing 600 pounds in weight in ten visits is impressive, well done!
2009-01-10| Jock saysIf you havn’t already seen MANCHILD then do so. It’s an absolute must for men over 50. Only pity is the BBC has only released series 1 on DVD … I just hope the others follow soon …
2009-01-12| Billy saysUS Pilot, Season I and Season II all available by “subscription” on Torrent … will take a look at the weekend
2009-01-13| Spike saysDownloading via Torrents deprives the artists and production companies of revenue and is illegal. I am disgusted and surprised that an upstanding and partially respected member of the community like Billy would indulge in such activities.
The new “24” is quite fun, and there is a new episode of Desperate Housewives for she who must be obeyed.