Get yourself fit. Go to the gym

Peter Evans

Last week my wife took a really good look at me. This is a very un-nerving experience and one which rarely, if ever, gives cause for hope.

’Why don’t you get yourself fit?’ she said, ‘Go down to the gym?’. Well, why not, I thought. I’ve always played sport and I’m pretty darned fit but it wouldn’t do any harm to get a bit fitter, and looking at myself sideways in the mirror, I could almost see my tummy flattening and the beginnings of a genuine six-pack starting to show.

So off I went. ‘Do you want a personal trainer?’ they asked. Why on earth should I want a personal trainer? Good heavens I know what I’m doing: anyone can ride a bicycle and row a bit, why pretend it’s so complicated? No thank you I’m sure I can manage.

Bicycle first, I thought. I’ll set it for twenty minutes and slightly up-hill. After a few minutes I was conscious that there were other bits of apparatus yet to be worked on which I didn’t want to miss, and it seemed to be rather more up-hill than I had planned, so I changed to the running machine.

Again, twenty minutes at, shall we say, 6 miles an hour seemed about right for a pretty fit sort of guy like me, I’ve done some running in my time I can tell you. It’s surprising but six miles an hour is quite fast and again I started worrying about whether I would have enough time to do justice to the other apparatus, so I moved, quite slowly, to the overhead weights.

When I got there I couldn’t help laughing at the ridiculously low setting left by the previous user. What’s the point of going to the gym if you don’t stretch yourself a bit? I raised the weights and was shortly giving a pretty impressive performance. (At this point I must admit that I was rather hoping that there was someone in the gym who knew me and was watching). After a few lifts I thought I might have put the weights upjust a teeny bit too high so I thought I would finish my session on the rowing machine.

Memories of the School Eight and Marlow Regattas came back to me and I really got into my stride, although I had forgotten just how much bending was required and for some reason or other (possibly something I had eaten) I got a little out of breath.

I arrived home somewhat sweaty but quite pleased with myself.

That was Thursday and things haven’t gone too badly since then. On Saturday I was able to sit up nearly straight and to-day, Monday, I’m hoping to be able to take a few, gentle steps in the garden.