A lot can change in three years. Children can grow, Justin Bieber can become cool, Australia can cycle through 25 Prime Ministers…
Until yesterday morning at 9am, I had not set foot in a gym for three years.
If you are clutching your medicine ball in horror, I feel you, but don’t call the doctor. I have done some exercise in the last three years. Just not in the gym. And, you know, not much.
But things have been getting out of hand. If I sit cross-legged on the floor to play with my kids, when I stand up I hobble like I am 92. I am not 92. My regular “runs” have become less like runs, and less regular. The stairs at work leave me breathless. My lower back aches when I wake up.
So. You know. IT’S TIME.
And so. I went to the gym near my house and signed an iPad with my finger and gave them my credit card details and then I went and found my old smelly workout clothes at the bottom of a drawer and I walked into what used to be my very favourite class – SPIN.
Not Soul Cycle, or Life Cycle, or even RPM. Just Spin. A load of stationary bikes in a darkened room with very loud music and a trainer who yells at you. Good times. I like to think of it as clubbing for old people.
Twenty-four hours later and I have barely recovered. And not (just) from the exertion. (Post continues after gallery.)