Arriving at the health club this morning I was greeted by an attractive archway of bright red balloons through which I had to pass. Very festive! Most celebratory!
It wasn't a complete surprise to me as the staff had been busily working away on the outline of the archway the previous afternoon while I was enjoying a coffee and the Sunday newspapers in the cafe bar. There was much popping of balloons
going on and seemingly little progress, despite the fact that there was a whole army of red-shirted people working on this latest project. So I was heartened for them this morning to see that, despite all the popping, they had had enough red
balloons left for a rather impressive display of archery.
I stopped briefly to find out what it was all in aid of. It seems the health club is looking to capitalise on the success
of the Olympics by helping us all to get super fit, starting with a free taster session with a Personal Trainer. Obviously the club's previous initiative to encourage sign up for "Personal Training with Tender Loving Care" (see previous blog) had not
been as successful as had been hoped. (They should have offered Tasty Looking Cupcakes, as I suggested.)
I was briefly tempted by the new offer - especially as all the Personal Trainers
listed had friendly names, like Nat and Emma and Tim - but as I was already late for my aqua-aerobics session, I decided to give this Opportunity of A Lifetime a miss. The thing is, I have missed so many aqua sessions
over the last rock 'n' roll weeks of summer that I have some serious catching-up to do. I was, to be honest, slightly worried that our trainer might have invented lots of new routines while I have been AWOL.
Now, as regular readers know well by now, my extreme short-sightedness when not wearing my specs means I only ever see what moves the trainer is demonstrating through a myopic haze. And at one point during today's 45 minute session, I have to
admit that I did get in a bit of a tangle. The trainer appeared to have introduced a new and extremely complicated move which involved ducking your head down and placing your hands on each foot in turn. Or at least that's what it looked like
Now I really, really don't like putting my head under water (I know I'm a wimp but I also know I am not alone, at least some of you will sympathise...) This meant that, in order to copy
the trainer, I had to reach my hands down towards my feet while somehow craning my neck to keep my head above water. It was quite a stretch.
After a painful while I realised that the woman
next to me, and the one the other side, were jogging away merrily, as was every other person within sight. There weren't a lot of them within sight, given the short range of my vision, but enough to see that they were not doing what I was doing.
That was the moment when I realised that our trainer, who is a bit of a fidget, was not actually demonstrating a new movement at all - but tying her shoe-laces....
I think I got away with