Fighting the Flab: Week 1
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Self-confessed gym failure Matthew Bailey has started a grueling exercise and gym regime - how is he getting on? Wednesday 4th December: I rock up to the gym, feeling optimistic. There I was, standing in the midst of what seemed like a group of Mr England contestants flexing their muscles in the mirror. I conjured up memories of my own school life; scrawny like Harry Potter, complete with the glasses, I was ruthlessly pummeted in the face by basketballs, footballs and softballs. How on earth was I expected to lift weights? Of course, my personal trainer, Tom, reassures me that everybody starts out at the gym as beginners. Hmmm, we'll see. He leads me to an empty gym studio where we begin some basic squats. YES, I thought. I can do this! But it gets harder. The squats become bizarre, pear shaped. My legs, back, feet and bum hurts like mad. As I start to pass out, Tom suggests we take a 30 second break. This way, we help recover from the hard workout, and this allows our bodies to repair and relax itself. Then, sadly, I end up lugging a tyre across the gym. I was sweating like a Loose Woman recieving her test results on the menopause. Dragging it back and forth like a maniac on steroids. "Come on, you can do it!" Tom shouts at me. 'Almost there!' I wish. I end up gasping for breath, fainting, and glugging my Evian back. I eventually leave the gym in pain. I can't do this; it's torture. I suggest that, right before the end of the workout, I'm going to vomit. My legs wont carry me to the toilet. My arms have given up hope. What kind of person does this for fun?! Thursday 5th December:
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