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OK, so it’s been rather a long time since I’ve been to the gym, although this is mainly because I buggered my knees up at Easter and my physio has said not to go to the gym (they also said not to go clubbing and spend hours on the dancefloor for a few months, but what the hell do they know?). Anyway, this week see’s my return to the gym. Last time I went I forgot my towel so this morning I laid everything out: shoes, socks, shorts, tshirt, headphones, iPod, brush, shampoo, shower gel, hair band, towel, gym card, hand towel, drink. All this was packed into the bag and I headed off to work.

Fast forward a few hours and I arrive at the gym, get out my gym clothes and my padlock… ah. Crud. I did toy with the idea of just leaving my stuff in the locker unlocked by my wallet and iPhone were in there and I’m not sure I’d survive the loss of my iPhone (to misquote Combichrist who, coincidently, misquote the US Army, so in other words to totally make it up: this is my iPhone, it is my life.). ‘If only I had a padlock’ I thought and then, suddenly, right in front of me, hanging on the coat hook was a padlock. This kind of crap happens to me quite a lot, I am a seriously lucky person sometimes so the [other] gods must smile on me. Anyway, I waited for a few minutes to make sure it didn’t belong to anyone getting changed and then swiped it. The gods, it would appear, are cruel; the padlock was broken. Not wanting to risk it I went back to reception and splashed £6 on a crappy lock.

Workout wise things went went. I was expecting to be out of practice as it’s been a while but I’ve been keeping up my Tai Chi and I’d put together a new gym play list that was working out quite well. It was one hell of a shock, therefore, midway through a quite fast song while I was in ‘the zone’ and precisely 20 minutes into my cross training that the thing decided I’d had enough and went into cooldown mode. The resistance setting halved and I damn near fell off it. Looks like I’ll have to rejig the playlist slightly to make it just over 20 minutes long and not have the cutoff fall in the middle of something fast.

Once again the changing rooms seemed to have a couple of older blokes doing that wandering around naked being all pleased with their bodies thing. Just wait 10 years, you’ll have spindly legs a big gut and look like a frog if held by your ankles. Time is a cruel mistress like that. Actually, she’s less of a cruel mistress and more of an evil cow who hates everyone and everything… a bit like a female version of me… I wonder if she’s single.

Anyway, despite playing up a bit midway through my bike ride (which I then decided to abort rather than pushing them too hard) the knees appear to be OK. Yay them. [Parents: stop reading here] Hopefully they’ll hold up through a whole club night without me having to neck a couple of voltarol