The Gym Is A Wondrous Place
My childhood memories are filled with lacklustre sporting performances at school, way too little involvement in any other extra curriculur activities which focus on anything other than my thumbs and had trophies of Nintendo boxes on my bedroom wall. Yup, I was your garden variety nerd.
In some ways, I have to hand it to Anis for actually forcing me to Gym in Melbourne a few years back. Funnily enough, I think that was my first ever dose of any sporting activity! Well aside from some lazy Badminton, and some pretend Basketballing to hang out with some girls, I pretty much had zero sporting interest. We both had a personal trainer whom we knew was over charging us, but we decided that the opportunity to work out and lose a few dozen pounds was worth more than a couple of hundred bucks a month. At least we'd have saved some money on that dilapidated hospital bed we would've visited more regularly had we decided to skimp on a few bucks and braved the unruly act of lazing about professionally.
So there we were training ourselves three times a week; primarily on cardio with an instructor who was a little too touchy feely for both our tastes. In some ways, I regret that the cardio regiment Ron thought us is as foreign to me today as an Afghanistan militant in a strip joint. I clearly remember the sensation of crawling out of that superheated gym and into the cold winter air outside, wearing nothing but a sweatshirt and a warm pair of tracks to keep us honest.
When I got back home to KL for good, I joined the local gym as a gesture more than anything else. The package consisted of one extremely rude and PMSed girl who knew just as much as I did on Personal Training. She screwed up what I already knew, and added a whole slew of crapped up training procedures which did no favours for my back, or the people who I wanted to impress.
I detested my local gym. I hated going there because I didn't see results, and what little I did see was gone the moment i grabbed a cheeseburger. So, there I was with a cheeseburger on my left hand and what looked to be a brand new gym card on the other. I frequented the gym once maybe twice a month, for a whole year. I didn't know what I needed and even if I did, I sure as hell didn't know how to achieve it.
It took me quite a while to realise that the Gym is so much more than 'weight loss parlour' or 'Malik Noor' centre. I realised that you could meet quite a few new people who are just as enthusiastic about you regardless of the age or gender. I've met quite a few old friends at my local gym and found that we're all pretty much in the same boat. Over worked, under paid and under appreciated. The gym is a place where you could just, quite literally sweat it all out in the confines of those mirrored four walls. It is in some ways the pinnacle of man's narcissistic tendencies, but since society is built on the falsehoods of the slim, slender figures of Esquire and Maxim, where else could you see humanity's best efforts to bend over and kiss the norms of the stereotypical fallacies of our pre ordained, pre structured society?
It's great. Peel away your misconceptions of the gymnasium, and visit one nearest to you. It's not narcissistic if you go there for your own health/personal reasons. The food we eat, the cigarettes we smoke, the music we listen to, heck even the traffic jams we go through on a daily basis, all contribute to our escalating stress level(s).
Today I ventured a little bit further, and tried a new gym. It was strangely familiar, yet still foreign in some aspects as well. But the people...oh the people were just as colourful as the gym I've always gone to. And that's what makes it fun. Seeing new people, new nuances with funky little idiosyncratic routines that simply electrified the air around me. It's amazing.
Plus, I met another old friend while I was taking a tour of the gym. So yeah, even if you don't like the gym, at least stay for the people you might bump into there. You might be pleasantly surprised.
In some ways, I have to hand it to Anis for actually forcing me to Gym in Melbourne a few years back. Funnily enough, I think that was my first ever dose of any sporting activity! Well aside from some lazy Badminton, and some pretend Basketballing to hang out with some girls, I pretty much had zero sporting interest. We both had a personal trainer whom we knew was over charging us, but we decided that the opportunity to work out and lose a few dozen pounds was worth more than a couple of hundred bucks a month. At least we'd have saved some money on that dilapidated hospital bed we would've visited more regularly had we decided to skimp on a few bucks and braved the unruly act of lazing about professionally.
So there we were training ourselves three times a week; primarily on cardio with an instructor who was a little too touchy feely for both our tastes. In some ways, I regret that the cardio regiment Ron thought us is as foreign to me today as an Afghanistan militant in a strip joint. I clearly remember the sensation of crawling out of that superheated gym and into the cold winter air outside, wearing nothing but a sweatshirt and a warm pair of tracks to keep us honest.
When I got back home to KL for good, I joined the local gym as a gesture more than anything else. The package consisted of one extremely rude and PMSed girl who knew just as much as I did on Personal Training. She screwed up what I already knew, and added a whole slew of crapped up training procedures which did no favours for my back, or the people who I wanted to impress.
I detested my local gym. I hated going there because I didn't see results, and what little I did see was gone the moment i grabbed a cheeseburger. So, there I was with a cheeseburger on my left hand and what looked to be a brand new gym card on the other. I frequented the gym once maybe twice a month, for a whole year. I didn't know what I needed and even if I did, I sure as hell didn't know how to achieve it.
It took me quite a while to realise that the Gym is so much more than 'weight loss parlour' or 'Malik Noor' centre. I realised that you could meet quite a few new people who are just as enthusiastic about you regardless of the age or gender. I've met quite a few old friends at my local gym and found that we're all pretty much in the same boat. Over worked, under paid and under appreciated. The gym is a place where you could just, quite literally sweat it all out in the confines of those mirrored four walls. It is in some ways the pinnacle of man's narcissistic tendencies, but since society is built on the falsehoods of the slim, slender figures of Esquire and Maxim, where else could you see humanity's best efforts to bend over and kiss the norms of the stereotypical fallacies of our pre ordained, pre structured society?
It's great. Peel away your misconceptions of the gymnasium, and visit one nearest to you. It's not narcissistic if you go there for your own health/personal reasons. The food we eat, the cigarettes we smoke, the music we listen to, heck even the traffic jams we go through on a daily basis, all contribute to our escalating stress level(s).
Today I ventured a little bit further, and tried a new gym. It was strangely familiar, yet still foreign in some aspects as well. But the people...oh the people were just as colourful as the gym I've always gone to. And that's what makes it fun. Seeing new people, new nuances with funky little idiosyncratic routines that simply electrified the air around me. It's amazing.
Plus, I met another old friend while I was taking a tour of the gym. So yeah, even if you don't like the gym, at least stay for the people you might bump into there. You might be pleasantly surprised.
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