I have a confession to make, and I’m not exactly proud of what I’m going to say.
It’s something a friend would roll their eyes at and ask rather frustratedly, “really?”
Over the last two years, I have signed up to – and subsequently, quit – five gyms, to be exact. And like all shameful quitters, I’ve never hit the same gym twice. God forbid they recognise me and realise I didn’t actually move to a new area/lose my job/insert other excuses I’ve used to justify quitting, instead of telling them that I do not enjoy their gym and would rather sit on the couch and eat a bag of Twisties.
Lordy, how I hate the gym.
They smell. I get sweaty. It feels like a chore. They always play loud music so I can’t hear my podcast. My earphones refuse to stay in while I attempt to work out. I get lonely. My trainer wants to weigh me a lot. There are lots of very fit looking people in fancy active wear who look really good while running 5km and oh my do I not look like that.
Literally everything about the gym bugs me. But I always go back when I get a burst of ‘I can do this!’ energy. But then inevitably I quit and every time I do, it’s because I lose all motivation to continue my crusade for toned arms (this usually happens two weeks into my membership). And when you’re paying between $12 and $20 a week for a membership, it can become a pricey lie to tell yourself.
Watch: The Bachelor’s Sam Wood shows the Mamamia team how to exercise in an office. Post continues below.
I always felt guilty when I had a gym membership, like when you’re in uni or doing your HSC and feel like you’ve never actually got free time – because you should be studying. I felt like I should be exercising.