Jungle Gym

Yes, I did join the gym today! Contrary to what I'd expected, the gym was not filled with hot, sweaty people of the female gender. I think all those Axe commercials have taken their toll on me! There were, however, a number of old, sweaty, gender-confused old men who suddenly had the urge to get a good workout so that they can reach heaven in tip-top condition. I mean seriously, if you plan on taking part in the annual marathon runs held in heaven, you might want to spend the greater part of your hour on the treadmill instead of striking smoldering poses in the life-sized mirrors fitted all around the walls. That's also the reason I call them gender-confused by the way. It's normal for any person to stare at his reflection for some time, but when you're 50 year old, and you're sweating from all the wrong areas of your body, and you've forgotten to take your arthritis pills, and you're not in the least bothered by that suspicious crunch you hear when you bend sideways to strike the varsity cheerleader pose, THEN my friend, you've got problems! No, swaying to the invigorating sounds of 'Chakde Phatte' isn't the solution! You've gotta lift something. It's not difficult deciding, you're in a gym....be imaginative. Or close you're eyes, turn around twice and lift the first thing you see when you open them! Whatever!

Well having described the typical life-forms found in this area, I shall now talk about the gym instructor. He seemed a pleasant guy who's very particular about me pulling the bar of the crass strainer exactly ten times, and insists I cycle for exactly ten minutes, and I walk for exactly ten minutes....Yes not jog...WALK!

"Now, Now not too fast, just walk...that's the way...don't wanna over exert yourself on the first day!"

"But I walked all the way over here....and I'm probably gonna walk all the way back!"

"No but you need to warm up"

"But I just cycled for ten minutes!"

"You need to warm up properly if you're gonna work out."

"But I've just worked out for an hour...you said you'd send me home after this..."

"Of course! You don't want to over-exert yourself on the first day, do you?"

"....."

Aah well! At least he lets me use whichever set of weights I want...ten times.

There's always provision for towels which I'm supposed to neatly lay on the seat before I plant any part of my body on it, despite the fact that it's hard to break a sweat walking on a treadmill in a room that's completely air conditioned. I'm supposed to carry it around everywhere. Maybe it's a symbol - "I'm proud to be a member of this gym and solemnly swear to wipe my ass with this and only this towel, and firmly believe using another towel shall be considered nothing short of sacrilege", which is sad because mine had a small red stain on it. Now I can't imagine how it could have acquired any kind of stain!

And now the dressing room - four middle-aged mean with paunches and nothing but towels(provided courtesy of the gym) wrapped precariously around their waists, drinking tea and reminiscing the good old days when they were were capable of actually dragging themselves to the room next door labeled 'Gymnasium'.

My thoughts on it? I really doubt I'll be going back. Lifting a 4 Kg weight ten times and cycling for 10 minutes is hardly going to get me rock hard abs and buns of steel, and yes these are quintessential for me to realise my super hero dreams. But then again, I can always be the one to prove superheroes are made of more than just rugged good looks and 6 pac abs and visually suggestive underwear - So What if I have a flabby gut and big saggy man boobs?? I'm still saving your life Goddammit! That and learning to fly and a whole lot of other exciting adventures await me...But for now, I'm gonna watch lord of the rings again....for the tenth time!