Tuesday, March 07, 2006

on croissants and crunches

It was the muffle of squash-rubber being slammed against a wall; pock-bounce-pock-bounce-pock. And the warm aroma of subtle chlorine; like summer and the loveliness of floating. Seduction aural and olfactoral, I found myself with a 36 month Planet Fitness gym contract.
No random bourgeoisie phase this, but dire, dire necessity.
We've moved to new offices you see, and all it takes is a lift ride down to ground floor, a few inconsequential paces and before me lies satan in the forest (well, amid Jan Smuts traffic at least), Fournos Bakery. And that seduction of the senses is somewhat more headier, more base, more enticing. I know its just the home-sweet aroma of buttery rising dough and frisky yeast; those little unicellulars doing their darndest to deliver their destiny, which translates into me doing my darndest to deliver on my destiny, which is to sample every flake of pastry that was ever birthed in a Fournos oven.
So, in order to bring order to my universe, the force must be balanced and off to gym I go.
Where I have to undergo an initial assessment, the obvious simile: like a land mass before they begin construction. I'm required to hold what looks like an erstwhile PS2 control at arms-length, and press firmly with my palm and thumbs. Electrical impulses (of the no-buzz, no-fun kind) are transmitted through my body from this gameboy-poser, where their task is to report back to HQ with my fat cell census. Horror overtakes me. Hide little fat cells hide! We shall not be counted! Too late ... I had visions of little michelin-men struggling to bend over to tie up the laces on dusty running shoes, suddenly being rugby-tackled by these svelte electrons.
I'm handed a print out of my results in bitter, stark toner. Reality smacked me on what the results indicated was a lardy rear, "Get a move on, Fatty, You've got some real work to do."
Ah, the spirit is willing but the flesh, oh the flesh, is much much too weak.


Muhammad said...

1km on the treadmill finished.. another 20 to go, not including crunches, push-ups, yoga classes, tae-bo, pilates, strength training and a long swim.

That should get you taut enough :P

Thank you for joining the still-fat-but-exercising club.

We'll analyse the situation and rename the group at a later date.



Z said...

lol.. the gym is like the donkey in a rural african village - its the only way but it can never be trusted to work! i wish you all the success i havent had yet! -Zakiya

realist said...

good on ya' for taking the first step - so...when do you join me at bikram? lol

'liya said...

Good luck at the gym! I hate anything where I have to move..


cheesemeister said...

After getting really sick with the flu in November of 2004 (the weakness lingered on for about 3 months afterwards and I lost my voice entirely for 3 weeks--but had to keep working the whole time) I have never been able to get back to the strenuous exercise routine that I used to enjoy. I tire out much too easily. I do speed walking and some toning but really would love to start swimming again. It's my favorite exercise. But it's such a pain in the butt to get over to the rec center and get suited up only to find there isn't an open lane. Waaah. Stop whining, Cie.
I am also a proud member of the Fat But Exercising club. And folks, I really do look like Miss Piggy--and have chosen to be proud of it! :-)

Profane. Profound. What's your poison?