Just got back from the gym. Yes, me. Incredible I know but two months ago I signed up to an exercise programme, under careful medical scrutiny. Not a doctor as I had thought but a chap in a white coat with a degree in sports. In any case, my Not Doc was very thorough and as soon as he heard my knees crackle like crisp packets he sent me off to Aquagym classes which was probably all the Fitness Centre’s insurance would cover me for.
Aquagym is a small group of ladies of a certain age and girth, who perform aerobic-like exercises (that’s the theory) in a waist-deep swimming pool to the thump-thump-thump of disco music while a young, svelte slip of a thing yells instructions from the pool’s side. It must be an attention-grabber because we inevitably draw a sweaty audience from the upper floor gym. For The Artist, who is at least as athletic as me, this whole thing conjured up images of the dancing hippos from Walt Disney’s Fantasia. How rude…
Actually it’s probably worse than that. We go red in the face too which the hippos didn’t. I thoroughly enjoy the whole thing, except perhaps the ladies’ communal showers. My legs no longer feel like cement blocks when I get out of the pool after our class and I feel so much fitter.
I even thought I was on my way to becoming thin. Not so, said Not Doc who soon clarified that a little water-bouncing was never going to make me thin, just tone me up a bit.
He must be right. Since then I’ve met several girlfriends who swear they go to the gym every day from Monday to Thursday to do excessive, masochistic exercise routines. Rather disappointingly they still sport their usual porky silhouettes.
But today I heard crushing news. The FC management swines have wiped our Aquagym off the timetable - changed for the summer while the Fitness Centre is overrun with kids – out of school for the three-month academic break. Ayyyyeeeee - How frustrating. I mean it’s OK for me not to go because it’s not convenient/I’m too tired/I’m too old/too busy/got to have a tooth pulled etc. But for THEM to cancel our class until October – How could they?
I have come home and opened a bottle of cava to commiserate with myself. Now I shall be forced to spend my summer evenings with my feet up, quaffing chilled white wine and enjoying some splendid Spanish cuisine … life is tough.
