I am writing today’s post from the somewhat unconventional location of an exercise bike in the gym. Whilst this is an excellent example of multi-tasking (read it and weep boys-sorry, too sexist?) the primary reason for this (besides making the pain of exercise marginally more bearable due to the distraction it provides) is that I wanted to write a real time appraisal of the box fit exercise class that is taking place to my right. Or, more specifically, to pass comment on the extremely annoying fitness instructor who ‘teaches’ it. In the past five minutes alone I have witnessed her:
- Smirking to herself (presumably at something terribly funny that nobody besides her deserves to know)
- Checking herself out in the mirror (not wanting to be disparaging about a fellow female of the species but she’s not all that, believe me)
- Flirting with any male instructor who happens to walk past (and a fair few male gym goers)
- Doing the bare minimum of actual exercise (besides the occasional show-off manoeuvre on her skipping rope – which, gratifyingly, I just witnessed her messing up completely)
- Offering very little by way of instruction, advice or encouragement (presumably due to previous points)
“All our tutors are active personal trainers,” say the signs on the TV screens (which frankly makes me call into question these people’s definition of ‘active’). When I joined this gym a few weeks ago I was quite keen to try the box fit class, but after witnessing it ‘in action’ I think I’ll give it a wide(r than the instructor’s arse and ego) berth…
Today I took what was probably the last ride on my Norco hybrid bike. Despite the fact it has for the past five months been out of use and cluttering up the hallway of my flat so much it’s nearly made me and my boyfriend come to blows, I must admit I feel a certain sadness now the time to part is nearly upon us.
I’m neither a natural nor particularly keen cyclist, indeed the only reason that I bought the bike in the first place was because I was coerced (or was it me who did the coercing? I forget) into doing a sprint distance triathlon back in 2009. After the first sprint triathlon I did another, and last year I took on the Olympic distance. Throughout it all my trusty bike was on hand, taking me out training no matter what the weather was like outside. We had good times and we had bad times but we never gave up, and we chalked up some surprisingly impressive results over the course of those three races – results I will be proud to share with my children one day, ensuring its legacy lives on.
But since that last race back in September 2012 the bike has been in premature retirement, and spending some of the best years of its life languishing unwanted in a hallway just isn’t fair. We both need to accept that it’s time for us to move on with our lives, separately. I’m pleased to have found a good home for it with a friend who has also now committed to an Olympic triathlon next year – really, neither of us could ask for more.
And so with a heavy heart I bid my bike adieu, and wish it well for its future endeavours, whatever they might be. I’ve given it one final service and am handing it over with love. Bye, Norco, you’ve been great. Ride well and prosper.