So, I’ve started back at the gym. Mostly because I’m fat. Partly because I’m mental. Both things are really helped a lot by going to the gym.
To be honest, it’s been going well, despite it being week one. However, the last few days haven’t gone so well, culminating in a particularly bad effort yesterday, which I shall tell you about right now.
On Friday, I went to That London, for a rehearsal. I left Manchester at 6am, and got home at about 10pm. On Saturday, I went to Glasgow. I left at 5am, and got home at 3am, via a very long day and a snooze somewhere in the middle of the Lake District, when things were going particularly badly. So, yesterday was a day of rest, but after two days where I clearly couldn’t go to the gym I thought I should try. I decided to time it with dropping the current Mrs. Faint off at her place of employ for the evening and get to the gym for around 5pm, which I did. In fact it was precisely 5pm.
It’s worth mentioning at this point that when I started the car forty minutes previously, it had made a strange noise for about five minutes and once the noise stopped I became aware that the fan had stopped working. It was hot, the car had been making a strange noise and now a thing had stopped working. It wasn’t overheating, so I didn’t worry too much. When I arrived at the gym, I stopped the car and thought it stopped in a slightly unconventional way, so just to put my mind at rest, I thought I’d just start it up again to make sure it would. Of course, (and I say of course, because if this didn’t happen, this would be a really rubbish story) the car didn’t start. In fact it didn’t do anything at all, which seemed a shame.
I have a history of cars breaking, I don’t tend to have a lot of luck, but I suppose it’s better that it happens now than in a couple of months when things are hectic. It’s happened so often that I tend to take it rather well and don’t get too freaked out. I really rely on my car and when it’s not working things are rarely anything other than impossibly awkward. Still, at least it hadn’t happened on the way up to Glasgow on Saturday.
So the AA man was duly requested and I decided that while I waited I’d go and do the gym things anyway. He could be up to an hour (though that was unlikely) so I could do at least a good chunk of it before he arrived. I put my bag in the locker, filled up my water bottle, walked onto the treadmill, punched in my details (‘fat’, ‘slow’, that kind of thing) and started my initial walk. Roughly ten seconds into this, the phone rang and the chirpy man on the other end told me he was outside in front of my car. This was both a good thing and a bad thing!
It became clear that the noise I’d heard when I started the car earlier was a result of a faulty ignition switch, which had resulted in the started motor not doing what it should be, which in turn resulted in the starter motor buggering up. That was why it wouldn’t start again. I would need a new ignition switch and a new started motor. I don’t know what those things are, but I know I can’t afford to have them replaced. So, when that’s the problem with the car, a push start will suffice to send you on your way in the normal fashion, so it was decided that he’d push start me, and I’d go home and I’d then re-arrange my plans. He reminded me that my deluxe AA policy means I get three days free car hire, so my impending visit to Norwich (today) should still go to plan.
I drove myself home, and knew that as soon as I turned off the engine I wouldn’t be turning it on again for an unspecified period of time. I got in touch with my mechanic man to arrange him towing the car to his place and realised what the more observant among you will have realised, that I’d left my bag still in the locker in the gym.
Before this realisation, I wasn’t sure about my subsequent gym plans, but having realised this, I decided I’d walk to the gym, do my usual thing and walk home – I had the time and it might help me be calm about the car situation. I walked five minutes up the road, realised I was really thirsty, and realised that I’d left my water bottle at home. I know how much water I take on whilst sweating uncontrollably at the gym, so decided to walk the five minutes back and get it. That I did.
I then tried for the third time to go to the gym, which is, I guess, around fifteen minutes walk. The sun was shining, it was relatively pleasant. As I reached the gym, I was surprised to see how quiet the car park was, then more surprised to see that the gym clearly shuts at 6pm. It was 6.17pm, the place was in darkness, with nobody anywhere to be seen.
So, there I was, my ageing body squeezed into inappropriate clothing, with a water bottle, a towel and some headphones for my iPhone, about to walk straight back the way I’d just come. I suppose my bag will have to stay there for a while now. Fortunately there wasn’t anything in there I desperately needed. In fact the story is full of things which could easily have been worse, but there we go. It’s rather an elaborate way of getting out of going to the gym, but to be fair I did try three times to go and managed exactly ten seconds on the treadmill. Feeble.
Today I shall be in Norwich and tomorrow I shall tell you about having dinner with half a dozen people I’ve not seen for twenty years. Could be interesting.