It was Thursday afternoon around 6:00pm on the 24th June in the year 2010. I was snuggled in my bed, where I had been snuggled since 4:00pm, with my aunt’s laptop watching DVDs and surfing the WWW whilst scoffing Margaret River Chocolate Factory chocolate acquired earlier that day at their Swan Valley store on my way home from an interview that I had rescheduled from Tuesday because of the Melancholic Black Dog that had been afflicting me for some two weeks and rendered me incapable of removing myself from the couch let alone the house.
I was browsing the website of The Master, aka Stephen Fry and I caught site of his new banner featuring his new slim-line self.
(Read his story here – http://www.dailymail.co.uk/tvshowbiz/article-1194024/STEPHEN-FRY-How-I-lost-stones-just-months.html )
Seeing and reading about his efforts again inspired me to finally, after months of contemplation and putting-it-off, to surf onto the Contours Women’s Gym website and investigate costs.
I surfed at the right time. Their home page announced a $29 joining fee offer for the month of June.
Bollocks and bugger actually. I was now in the position where the ‘I am a poor student and cannot afford the joining fee’ excuse could not be employed to put off the sorry business for another prolonged period of contemplation.
Before the impetus left me and my slothful side overcame me, I dialled.
“Hello. My name is Lisa and I am calling you from my bed where I am watching DVDs and scoffing chocolate. I need to sign up with you before it’s too late.”
I was popped in the schedule for the next morning.
(It was amazing how much better my chocolate tasted after I had committed myself to the gym!)
I drove to the gym next morning freshly showered and brimming with enthusiasm. I met with Julie and she signed me up and booked me in for my first weigh-in and session the following Tuesday.
The weigh-in was no surprise. Well, except for the fact it was not as bad as I thought it would be considering the quantities of ‘medicinal’ chocolate I have been scoffing since my unfortunate return from London in December 2008.
My first circuit was painful, but thankfully only went for one round instead of two as it took some time to work out the doable-weight for each machine and to figure out which manual exercises my uncoordinated body could handle without causing injury to myself, or others.
I struggled my way through the last half; muscles I was not aware existed were screaming and burning from the unwelcome exertion. However, it was quickly over and another session was booked in for Friday morning to do the circuit properly.
If I thought my first circuit was bad, Friday’s session was close to tortuous. Julie was there to guide me through my paces. Julie with the voice of an angel and the heart and soul of an army Drill Sergeant!
The agony! The burn! Behind the feigned smile – “Yes, I am enjoying this very much” – were tears of regret and sorrow. My heart and straining body were crying out for the inertia of life involving a couch and television.
Unfortunately, I could not cheat and be a little lax on some machines as Julie was watching over me, as all good Drill Sergeants do.
The second time around the circuit seemed endless. I was close to passing out on a couple of occasions. I struggled to get my legs to do what they needed to do, my arms were close to falling out of their sockets, my face was red and I had rivers of lady-like ‘glistening’ running all over my poor abused body.
But I made it. Finally! It was one of the longest and most painful thirty-seven minutes of my life.
Unfortunately the hard physical work of that week was completely ruined by the old Black Dog and the weekend was spent being miserable and scoffing chocolate and slurping chocolate milk.
However, the constant ache of the back and neck muscles is reminding me of the mission I am on. I am thinking that gym junkism is probably an unlikely goal/outcome given my history, however, if I manage to sustain a minimum of three sessions a week for one year, well this is as close to gym junkie status that this Prone-to-Sloth creature is likely to get. And I am ok with that, as long as I am a slightly fitter and slimmer Prone-to-Sloth-Almost-Gym-Junkie who can enjoy the occasional small chocolate indulgence and not gain 20 kilos!