21 July 2008

Fitness Wrath

Do you realise that there are over six different rates you might be charged if you decide to join one miserable LA Fitness venue? And that's just in London!
Depending on whether you look this glorious little cost of fitness up on-line, or just amble down to ask a buff attendant, you can swiftly knock off (or pile on) up to £10 a month. And this does not yet touch upon the financial menu offered to members of other venues within their chain already (switch fee, anyone?).
Then there are the aspiring members who find themselves open to corporate deals, anti-social off-peak hours, or might simply want to attend an assortment of LA Fitness across the UK.

And you thought it was just a matter of location? How naive you are!

No, when you have discovered by a now unsavory number of complex and ever-anonymous grilling techniques (sent from email addresses 1 - 5) what all these options are...you then get left with one final door to open. The righteous door; the door left ajar to those who are just a little bit fed up with having to tick that elaborate spiderweb of boxes to ensure they get the more acceptable deal from these fitness fiends.
Well, I braved this door today.
And guess what?
Yes, I was faced with yet another fee option.
Quite frankly, the realms of energy spent on even the merest sniff of the word 'membership' is enough to justify never touching a treadmill again. I suggest you take up Yoga.

14 July 2008

The conclusion of pole


So... tonight we have the last of the Intermediate pole dancing lessons.
You wonder what more can be achieved without a near-death experience. Quite a lot it seems. There are, in fact, a great many more levels to move through. And a great many bruises to name.
Amazing how much you can look forward to succeeding at the Inverted Crucifix, or the Serpent, as others call it. Throwing your legs over your head while clutching a shiny metal rod may seem a bizarre way to spend your Monday evenings, but I disagree.
Hell, at least you look at the world from a different perspective when you're empathising with a scantily-clad bat. Except you're not really wondering anything at all, if I am honest... Does my bum look big like this is the last thing on your mind when clinging on for dear life. Maybe that kicks in at Advanced...

Tomorrow? Golf.