Joss Stone morphs into Norah Jones and I slink away into the back room to find a little space between me and myself. The sun has found its way into my bones and I glow a little with the bliss of memory. A simple memory, one that is only hours old. A simple thing done that makes me feel that little bit more alive. There’s nothing like pressing weights to get the blood going to the brain.
I used to belong to a gym so many years ago. A Gold’s Gym where the goal of everyone in there was to look like Arnie, women included. It wasn’t my bag; well that’s what I tell myself. I think I lasted three visits before I gave up and wrote off the money laid down. In only the last seven months I have now quadrupled the number of gyms I have belonged to.
The first was near the school where I worked. Big, new, expensive and on the top floor providing a commanding view. I forked out for three months and actually found a habit. It wasn’t like the habit of biting my finger nails which took me years to break. It was easier than that but it was a habit none the less.
The second gym was closer to my girlfriends’ apartment and we went together. It wasn’t as big or as high or as new but it was cheaper. As I spent an hour each morning on the treadmill I looked out over concrete mixers lining up to unload their stirred contents into the walls, floor and ultimately ceiling of a neighbouring development. The building’s finished now and shops are moving in and I’ve moved on.
Today was the first time at a new gym, if you can call it that. It is in a building that is part of the apartment complex where I now live with my girlfriend. It is on the ground floor with a view currently of green trees and a small sprinkling of road that big green buses frequently traverse. It’s 10,000 won a month which is way cheap and if we get there early enough we can have a good hour on one of the few treadmills the gym has before I sling my slowly ever increasing weights. There is nothing like reps in the morning to wake you up for the day.