Gyms are seen as places of health and happiness. But whether you’re a gym bunny or a first-time treadmill user, no-one is immune to losing their dignity at the gym.
One year, in a fit of post New Year’s Eve self-realisation, I joined a gym and excitedly showed up for my first session. After getting lost on the way there and having to make a mad dash back to my car to retrieve a wayward shoe that was hiding from me under the seat, I finally showed up on the machine-filled floor.
Because of my terrible lateness, the super-fit gym person who was supposed to show me around and teach me how all the shiny machines worked had moved onto someone else and I was left to my own devices. How hard could it be? I thought to myself. Getting fit is all about positive thinking.
So I popped down on the first free machine I saw and happily pulled the two bars on either side of me across my chest. (Sorry I still can’t provide you with the correct, factual name of this piece of gym equipment.)
This would have been all good and fine, except the bars somehow locked across my chest and I found myself unable to move/breathe/call for help. I think it had something to do with the fact that a man with guns the size of the Big Pineapple had been using it before me.
I squirmed. I panted. I tried to use the power of my brain to will my boobs to become just a cup size smaller and free me from this metal prison. But none of those things worked. In fact, I’m still here, trapped in this machine. Send help.
But I’m not the first person to suffer a gym mishap, and nothing makes you feel better faster than hearing about the misfortunes of others. Here are the very worst gym stories I've heard: