The Gym
April 04, 2005
Spurred by Dennis, I too will make an entry in my forsaken ‘blog’. I hate that word. I too will write about what the woman and I did together.
After many months of careful planning and deliberation, we decided to join a gym. It was a big step forward for us because neither of us had been in any exercise for years and years. It was such a couple-ly thing to do but it had been a long while since we’ve done something other than eat, watch movies, go shopping, and uh hold hands.
The closest decent gym near my apartment is a good 15 minutes by bike or a quick stop away on the Hanshin line. It’s pretty nice gym – small enough to get the attention of unwanted trainers, and big enough to allow us ample use of the equipment. There’s a pool and a studio too. Best of all, there’s a punching bag but to my disappointment, we weren’t allowed to use it. So we both worked out. I actually was able to run a fair amount on the tread – much more than I’d thought I could. Muscle-wise though, yeah, I’ll leave it at the running.
The gym is in a nice area with a Mr. Donuts right next door (in case you want to erase all your hard work at the gym), a used book/game/furniture/stuff store, a Conan department store, and some other useless stuff. The only drawback is that there’s a stupid sewage treatment plant closeby. You can really smell it. Everytime we’ve walked past this park area, I mention to the woman that, “There’s a little bit of your poo in that water.”
I am such a fucking poet.
Till the next entry!
