The Correct Attire

On Friday it became set in stone, I have joint a gym, paid my year’s membership fee and organised some sort of induction appointment.

My lesson from the running (which I will take up again) is that I need proper gym attire if I am not to suffer debilitating, unsightly problems which lead to extended running sabbaticals.

So Sunday saw me wandering around a sports shop, piling my arms full of “appropriate” outfitage (apparently those legging contraption things are the correct attire to avoid above-mentioned sabbaticals).

As I struggled to get my (sizeable though not gargantuan) feet through the foot holes at the bottom of the first pair, I started to feel that this might not be an exercise in self-affirmation, which was shortly confirmed by the resultant image of wobbling lumpiness encased in tight navy lycra that I was met with in the mirror.

Little improved as I advanced through numerous pairs, getting more and more grumpy as I progressed. On my eventual exit from the shop’s one and only fitting room, there was a queue of people clearly curious to find out who’d been delaying them with her increasingly wild screeching about fat thighs and gym membership cancellation (I didn’t go to the shop alone – so I’m not entirely deranged – I had been screeching at someone, not just myself).

Nonetheless, I will be facing my gym induction tomorrow with a brand new pair of lycra creations. And I’m confident that I will not be needing to answer any uncomfortable questions from the inductor about why I decided to join a gym.