Tag Archives: gym

How to exercise

The exercise world is a tricky one, but having joined a gym and been to 3 whole classes, I will be your guide. It is very important to fit in when attending an exercise class. The things to wear are black leggings and an artfully slouchy, extremely expensive top type thing. I have achieved this look by simply locating a rather grubby, shapeless pajama top, and sticking my shoulder through the arm hole. I cannot tell you how impressed the other class-goers are. (I mean this literally. The shoulder through the arm hole thing means turning is very difficult, and I have hugely compromised my peripheral vision).

 Once in the class, stand next to a woman who looks the least physically intimidating. (Inexplicably, several women rushed to stand next to me, but I assume that was simply because they wanted to know where I had bought my excellent exercise top).

 At all points in the class, maintain eye contact with the teacher. This will not only tell everyone else in the class that you are here to exercise, but will also help to prevent terrible mishaps such as a wrong-direction lunge, or a misunderstanding of the phrase ‘and release’.

Even the shortest exercise class feels like practical evidence for Einstein’s theory of relativity. I have found it helpful, therefore, to wear a watch, just to reassure oneself that time is continuing to pass, despite all evidence to the contrary. Unfortunately, the only working watch I currently own has somehow set itself to beep every half hour, a constant high-pitched obstacle to my very first instruction: fit in. 

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Here is my advice. (Spoiler: it is great)

I am 27 years old today, a fact I am inordinately proud of. At this landmark birthday (I’m just going to keep saying it until people start agreeing with me), it behoves me to dispense some wisdom. Here it is:

1. Do not ask for butter on your sandwiches unless you like your butter in huge, undigestible lumps, clinging valiantly onto the surface of your bread. The only person who will dispense butter as you personally like it is yourself. This also applies to mayonnaise and branson pickle. Repeat after me: condiments are a private affair. Do not out-source them.

2. If you want to feel better about yourself, do not go to the gym. There are always impossibly beautiful people in the gym. I suggest McDonalds. That way, you are not surrounded by supermodels and you have some chips.

3. Sometimes, people don’t like you. This is irritating, and it is tempting to ‘encourage’ them to see the error of their ways by contacting them incessantly. Do not.

4. If you are an ‘early-morning person’ stay away from the rest of us. Perhaps you could use the extra time to make us breakfast, and serve it to us in a respectful, unsmiling silence. Basically, even if you ‘love’ the morning, try as hard as possible to act as though you don’t. Trust me, it’ll be much easier to survive.

5. Smile at strangers.

But not the scary-looking ones who are talking to themselves, or the very old ones, who might think you are about to attack them. Only smile at young, attractive people. I think what I’m saying is: flirt. (But not with oldies. Or, despite this photo- animals).

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How I defied Su (no ‘e’)

I have a new personal trainer.

(I get some sessions with her as part of my excessively expensive gym membership- a fact I was only recently made aware of. Unfortunately, my gym membership runs out next month). My new personal trainer is called Su. (That’s not a typo. There’s no ‘e’. Don’t ask, I have no idea).

I met Su (yes, there’s still no ‘e’. Please get over it) a few weeks ago. ‘What are your training goals?’ She asked me sharply. I panicked. ‘I’d like to look good in my bikini,’ I said nervously. ‘OK,’ Su replied. ‘We have a lot of work to do.’ ‘Oh,’ I said sadly. ‘I thought I looked quite nice.’ This was the wrong answer, and Su ignored it entirely.

We started with a nutrition plan. I had to tell Su everything I normally ate and drank, and she had to stop wincing and sighing for long enough to write it down. It was all terribly stressful, so I was delighted when I was free to leave her and pop off to lunch.

‘I’ll be very good,’ I told myself as I sat down in Cafe Spice Namaste (http://cafespice.co.uk/).

‘Ooh, curried venison puffs,’ I noticed. ‘Well, Su did say she wanted me to eat protein…’ I quietly plowed my way through barbary duck tikka and saag prawns, with a side of chicken tikka makhani (I care not for your bourgeois constructs on ‘what constitutes a side dish’).

It was the pudding that undid me. I had to try very hard not to dig into my neighbours once I had finished mine.

‘You know,’ I said thoughtfully to my sister later that day. ‘I’m not sure this new diet plan Su’s got me on is going to be that fun.’ ‘Really?’ My sister replied sarcastically. ‘A diet which only allows you to eat grilled protein and green vegetables might not be that interesting? Have you thought this through at all?’ I hadn’t.

And I enjoyed my (forbidden by Su) meal so much that I’m off to see Cyrus, the Cafe Spice Namaste chef, at next week’s Foodies Festival. (http://www.foodiesfestival.com/). Which looks absolutely nothing like the nutrition plan I’m meant to be following, and everything like a rollocking good time.

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