I’ve never been a fan of gymnasiums. Not since the time when I all but had to feign a terminal illness to get out of the direct debit contract. There is something that is just “not on” about dressing in figure hugging gear and jiggling up and down in front of a mirror in a public place. I’d rather do all that once I’m dead or with someone special and, in private.
I’ve even tried to join an all female gym to get away from the “he” men. Instead of feeling comfortable I felt like I did not own enough makeup or acrylic nails to fit in. So in protest I used to dress in the most daggy track pants and big oversized tee shirts with sayings like “I saw Stevie Starr Vomit” on them. I actually did see Stevie Starr regurgitate stuff. He came to Australia years ago when I was just out of my teens and I just had to go see if the rumours were true about what he could do with coins, sugar and, a billiard ball. I digress.
So I have my own gym. It’s called Sooz’s Jammin’ Gym. It’s great! I own a few pieces of equipment to play on when the mood takes me. That’s how I exercise, when the mood takes. I would feel confined any other way. So I have a cross trainer set up in front of the TV so I can yell at the politicians on the news whilst ellipsing to my heart’s content. It’s great fun. I get to yell at the nut jobs on the telly and oxygenate my body at the same time. When I get sick of that I get off and grab one of my musical instruments and play a song that I’m either working on or have just learnt. Oh, and I do have hand weights as well so that I can keep my guitar playing arms toned and ready. In my gym you can have chocolate without guilt, take a break to watch a movie and even just look at the machine once in a while if that’s all you want to do. My gym is on the ground floor, has a nice view and no mirrors.
In my gym laughing out loud means never having to hold onto your mirth ever again.
In my gym having wobbly bits means there is more to belly dance with, but that’s another story ;)
Susan
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