Gime? What’s a Gime?

This is one of those “you won’t find time unless you make time” moments: I’ve signed up at the gym.
It seems I’ve served out my mid-life crisis at 34, by getting rid of the WRX, getting into a nice, comfy Forrester, starting to eat right(ish) and signing up for a couple of sessions of ritual humiliation per week. That’s how it goes, doesn’t it?
I’ve been assigned a Personal Trainer for a few sessions, presumably so I don’t make the place look bad by getting horribly mangled in some of the resistance contraptions.
I’ve never signed myself up for any structured exercise programme, ever. Apart from 10 years of soccer which evaporated in the heat of my misspent youth, and a season of getting my butt whipped around a squash court by a decent slice of Perth’s radio talent, I’ve never thought of getting into physical exercise. I’m blessed with a fairly speedy metabolism which means I can hammer away at computers on my fat arse without actually getting a fat arse.
But then, came Singapore: A couple of years ago, The Photo was taken. I shudder to recall it. It won’t be posted here. It was of me. Poolside. Fat.
So why wait until now? I had to wait for a few things to fall into place. The planets seem to have aligned this time, and Fitness First was in the right place at the right time to get my business.
Mark showed me the ropes. Or lack thereof. I love this place; it’s full of gadgets! There are treadmills that take your pulse. There are video screens aplenty. The resistance equipment operates on air pressure, so (ironically) you don’t have to mess around with weights in order to get some resistance exercise. I’m sure Mark doesn’t appreciate what a newbie he’s got here.
I’ll start my first proper session on Friday. Here’s hoping I’ll make it to a second session.