Monday, 5 December 2011

Defeated by bureaucracy

Depending on which programme I end up following, today had the potential to be the official start of my marathon training.  So despite being woken up entirely too early by the six roofers staying in the flat below me (I know that they're roofers because that's what it says on their van; I know that there are at least six of them because that's how many were standing outside, having a fag in the sleety snow, when I peered through my blinds at 6.30am to see who was making all the noise), having a full-on schedule at work, and coming down with a migraine, I was determined to do a 3 or 4 mile run tonight.

There's too much snow and ice on the pavements to run safely or comfortably, but there is a reportedly very nice leisure centre that is a 20 minute walk from my flat.  So despite the wind, snow, slush, freezing temperature, and lack of appropriate winter footwear, I made my way to the gym.  I arrived with my shoes and winter running leggings soaked through from the driving snow and from the slush sprayed onto me by passing buses, and successfully navigated my way past the group of local youths who were having a snowball fight in front of the leisure centre.  I presented myself at the reception desk to purchase entry to the gym...and was told 'sorry, you have to have an induction first.'

Now, if I had thought this through, I would have realised that this would be the case.  Every gym I've ever belonged to has required this; I imagine it's so that if you hurt yourself, you can't sue them.  But it just seemed So Unfair.  I've been going to gyms for longer than the gym receptionist has been alive. I was wet, cold, headachey, and had demonstrated my commitment to exercise by coming out in horrible weather.  I just wanted a 30 minute run on the treadmill.  Was that really too much to ask?

Apparently so.  The rules are the rules, and the wee receptionist was not about to bend them.  Some rules are made to be broken and others I can often find a way around, but even I knew that the only possible way of getting to use the treadmill was to give in and make an appointment for The Induction tomorrow night.

An extra day's rest can only help my achilles tendon and I'll be home from the gym in time to watch MasterChef:  The Professionals, so it's not all bad.  Smiling in the face of adversity, that's me!


  1. I'd expect nothing else from the glass-half-full girl! xxx

  2. I'm glad that you've finally acknowledged my glass-half-fullness! In writing and in public,