After a couple of weeks of should-I-shouldn't-I wavering about whether I should really spend such a heap of money, and ten days of wondering how to GET to the damn place, I finally went down to Christopher Place on Friday and found the entrance to the Fitness First gym. I had an eye test on Friday, and I figured hey, might as well kill two self-improvement birds with one stone.
And it wasn't actually as nervewracking as I expected it to be. Pete, who showed me round and explained everything to me, was really nice. And although my bank account is screaming at the £85 upfront costs (plus first month's membership) and the £38.95 per month thereafter, my body will thank me, I'm sure.
So after signing up and being shown round, I went to the sports shop and spent another obscene amount of money - £34.99 on trainers (which were the cheapest decent ones I could get, but at least they feel good on my feet), £9.99 on a sports bra (when you wear a D-cup, it's a necessity rather than a luxury) and £4.99 on a pair of shorts (which I then found are too small, but will be fine in about 10 lbs time) - and then came home exhausted, to nap and sleep. What with the gym and the trainers, I don't think I'm going to be getting contact lenses soon. (I couldn't believe they charge you £40 for the initial session, which is basically to show you how to put them in!) I was hoping that the NHS would pay, but apparently the rules have changed. (Although...remind me to look into that tomorrow.)
I hate spending money. At least when it's such a huge amount. I don't think I've ever spent that much in a single day, barring the days that I bought my car and my laptop, and paid for a year's college courses. And the amount I spent on the car didn't even register, really - I got the bank loan, went straight to the dealer, and gave them a check. (And have spent the last 3 1/2 years paying it off. *rolls eyes*) Never saw the money myself, so it didn't feel like spending hard cash - more like spending the money you use in Sims or something.
But Friday...yeah, that hit me hard. I had the money my Dad gave me for a wedding outfit, plus the check I got from Kell for the last job, but still. It hurt. Especially with the sports clothes on top. Nobody can believe that I haven't owned a pair of trainers since I was 16, but I just don't wear them. They give you osteoporosis* if you wear them too often, and I know if I had them the temptation would be to wear them all the time, so I just wear sandals and flat pumps, and the occasional fuck-me pair of heels.
But it had to be done, and I always do what has to be done, so I'm trying not to whine too much.
So yesterday (Saturday) I went back to the gym and got my BUPA health check, as part of my introductory passage. Which wasn't too bad, actually. A little embarrassing, considering that I'm kind of chubby, and gyms are always full of scarily-fit people, but it's just something that you have to suck up and get on with, or you'd never get started. So I got poked and prodded and measured by many different machines. I am 168 centimetres tall (don't ask me how many inches that is, because I don't know) and weigh quite a bit more than I should. Although a nice surprise was to find that the recommended weight for someone of my height is 78 to 84 kilos. That's what, about 150 lbs? And here I thought I should be working towards 105, 110. I guess I have unrealistic expectations, as most women do.
Much of the health check was a pleasant surprise. My BMI is horrendous, but that's nothing more than I was expecting, and doesn't bother me too much - a weight-height ratio is a ridiculously unscientific way to measure obesity. It doesn't take into account bone density, or muscle mass, or somatic type...anyway, I've been railing against it for years, and doubtless will continue to do so until it's been chucked out. (BTW, going by BMI alone, Brad Pitt is considered overweight and Tom Cruise is obese.) My body fat percentage, however, is just on the borderline between normal and high, as is my waist-height ratio. Nowhere near morbidly obese. That was a nice surprise.
Other stuff? My resting heart rate is 70 bpm - pretty damn good (especially for someone overweight). My flexibility is excellent in most of my body, although only average in the backs of my legs, which is where they usually test from. (I've always had shortened hamstrings and calf muscles - too much dancing on my toes when I was a kid, and wearing heels in my teenage years.)
My grip strength is good; I can grip 34 kg with my right hand and 26 kg with my left. And my lungs are excellent, and my FEV1/FVC ratio - that's the percentage of your vital capacity that you can blow out in one second - is an extraordinary 97%. (In an average person it's 70-80%, although professional athletes and opera singers have higher; I credit mine to my doc's orders to sing opera in the bath to ensure I can breathe properly even when I get pneumonia, which is unfortunately something that happens fairly often.)
And then you have my blood pressure, which she measured twice as 219/123 mmHg.
I'm going to go out on a limb and assume that either she didn't know how to take it, or the machine was broken. There are certain things that can cause blood pressure to get to that level - pulmonary oedema, bleeding in the brain, eclampsia, overdose on PMA** or something similar, possibly a couple of other things - but I'm pretty sure I'd know if I were that ill.
So all in all, it wasn't too bad. The blood pressure was nonsense. The weight problem I already knew about - well, that's why I'm going to the gym in the first place. The only other real problem I have is that I'm severely dehydrated, so I'm pouring water down my throat at every opportunity.
I didn't go today, and I actually feel weird already. I love the gym. I expect there will be times when I hate it with a vengeance, especially when I reach those points where exercise actually gets harder rather than easier, and you just have to push through the pain barrier. But so far, I love it. I love the way it's airy and cool in there. I love the rows of strange machines, just waiting for me to use them. I love the fact that I don't have to feel fat and unhealthy when I'm there, instead I can feel slightly overweight and like I'm doing something about it. I love not having to worry if I'm sweating, because at the gym sweat's a good thing. I love being able to spend half an hour standing under a cool shower. And when they've finished the construction project, which should be in about two weeks, I'll love the sauna and steam room, I expect. And the sunbeds, if I ever have the money to spare for them.
Ooh, and I get to go to free classes. I'm hopefully going to do Pilates and Yoga and maybe Street Dance. And hopefully when I'm fitter, Capoeira. That's something I've always wanted to learn.
I met a couple of excellent guys, just on my first day. It's funny, because in the past I've never gone for the pumped-up gym-going type of man. I usually like mine lanky and smart-looking. But there's something to be seen about a guy who can make his pecs dance and his abdominus rectus ripple. Even if I'm not interested in dating them, I can still look.
So this week, I'm generally a happy bunny.
Maybe I'll even be one of those Energizer bunnies, one day.
* Truth. Nobody believes this, either. But you need regular shocks to your bones in order to build more and keep the density high, and good trainers - Nikes and Adidas and stuff - cushion your feet so well they don't get the shocks they need. Sports shoes should be worn for running and other hard sports, but not for day-to-day life.
** PMA is paramethoxyamphetamine, a cousin of ecstasy (MDMA), that has an extremely toxic effect on the body. You'll have to go research it if you're bothered, because I'm not going into all that here.
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