Let’s be honest, does anybody really enjoy going to the gym? I always compare it to a trip to the Dentist – you dread going there, you hate every minute you’re there, and you feel a huge sense of relief when you can go home. There are lots of thing I dislike about the gym – the pain, the humiliation, the trying not to look like a complete Muppet when you are on the treadmill. I hate the fact that you have to pay to go to the gym in the first place, and you even have to pay the gym bully or personal trainer to scream abuse at you. Why do we inflict such torture on ourselves? When I do bother to go to the gym, I’m one of those lazy people who spends half an hour driving there and another half an hour trying to get the closest parking space (just so I don’t have to walk too far).
I’m avoiding the gym because they are always filled with posers, flaunting their designers bodies in their designer clothes! Many of us have experienced that horrible moment when the gym Barbie doll, with the tiniest body in the tiniest crop top and leggings, walks onto the treadmill next to you. The whole gym could be empty, but she still stands on the apparatus next to you. It’s bad enough having to see your Lycra covered lumps in the full length mirrors, but it’s made even worse when the hottest girl is running next to you. All you can think about is how big your bum must look next to hers. The gym is a really intimidating place too- especially near the weights, where you find the body builders grunting. The exaggerated sounds coming from the weight rooms makes them sound like they are suffering from severe constipation, or engaging in some kinds of sexual activity. You don’t get sounds like that when you are doing your Natalie Cassidy DVD at home.
I hate the gym when I see women in full make-up. How do they run for any length of time without a hair out of place or mascara dripping down their faces? I only have to do a ten minutes slow walk on the treadmill and I look like I’ve been sat in the sauna for 24 hours. There’s not even a shade of red to describe the colour my face turns. If I’m actually brave enough to wear make-up to the gym, I come out looking like a member of Kiss, or like I’ve gone ten rounds with Mike Tyson.
I’m staying away from the gym because it’s just not an enjoyable place to be in. It’s filled with people who are only there to chat to their mates, and people who don’t wipe down machines after they’ve sprayed them with litres of sweat. I hate the fact that you need an engineering degree to operate in the machines in the first place. I also get annoyed by the people who try and chat to you whilst you are running. You can just about run and breathe at the same time – how on earth do these people think you are going to be able to engage in any conversation. I may be a woman, but multitasking at that level would cause Wonder Woman to panic.
Then there’s the challenge of the changing rooms. I’m super shy and usually try and grab one of the few changing cubicles, but there are always women who aren’t as self-conscious as me. It’s usually the OAPs who insist on roaming the changing rooms in the nude, giving everybody an eyeful of what we can look forward to in our later years. I really don’t need to be seeing this when I already feel nausea from my workout. Or there’s the perfect Barbie doll from earlier, who spends a ridiculous amount of time moisturising her wonderful toned, tanned legs.
I know we all need to exercise and keep fit, but the gym often leaves me feeling inadequate and fat. I do enjoy the feeling a workout gives me, but I get a greater buzz when I’m being a couch potato, tucking into a bowl of ice-cream, whilst watching the endless weight-loss TV shows. I don’t want to pay to go somewhere I really don’t want to be. I’m avoiding the gym because it’s just not fun and the only machine I like in there is the one that you can get chocolate out of.