2 years, 3 months and 7 days... that's how much time had passed since I'd done any exercise that didn't involve carrying my washing machine up and down stairs. I realised this when me and Deb were putting together a photo album that included some taken of me in the midst of my clubbing career in London. I think if I tried doing an 8 hour doof session now, I'd either die of a heart attack, or my man boobs would jerk so hard they'd tear off from my neck down.
Which is why I've joined the gym. No more bitch tits, no more mono-ab, pack your bags fellas, you're off.
I've only been to 3 sessions so far, but I feel really good about it. The first few weeks are supposed to be the hardest, but this time around, I can't wait to get back. A few sore muscles here and there, but they disappear as soon as I walk through the door.
One thing I'd change though is the communal shower. The last time I showered with other guys was probably at intermediate, so it'll be a few more weeks before I forget that my junk is on show. Most people are obviously more than used to it, which is fine, but some of them stay in the shower for close to 20 minutes. If they aren't clean by that time, they aren't going to get clean. They're either there to perv at everyone, or to wave their third leg around. Surely there are places you can go to that specialise in that kind of thing?
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