On I went, out of the wood, passing the man leading without knowing I was going to do so. Flip-flap, flip-flap, jog-trot, jog-trot, curnchslap-crunchslap, across the middle of a broad field again, rhythmically running in my greyhound effortless fashion, knowing I had won the race though it wasn't half over, won it if I wanted it, could go on for ten or fifteen or twenty miles if I had to and drop dead at the finish of it, which would be the same, in the end, as living an honest life like the governor wanted me to. -Alan Sillitoe, "Loneliness of the Long Distance Runner"

Wednesday, September 14, 2011

I quit my gym two weeks ago, effective 1 October. The gym is nothing special, although it is convenient to my apartment and has branches all around the city (I really can't actually use any of those branches due to draconian policies that charge me for using a gym that's not my primary gym during off-peak hours).

When I gave some thought to my membership, I realized that I had gone to the gym maybe 4 or 5 times all summer. At $65 a month, that means that I paid about $39 per visit. Also, I realized that I absolutely hate the treadmill. TIME TO QUIT!

Of course, ironically I had one of the best treadmill runs of my life last night. Short, hard, sweet.

But then, as I was walking home from the gym and getting all melancholy while replaying a reel of "my greatest moments at the gym" in my head (inexplicably, the Dawson's Creek soundtrack was playing), my shin started aching.

No regrets.

1 comment:

  1. don't you hate when you do the math and are like 'what am i even doing???' i belong to equinox. in months when i use the gym exclusively its cheap. some months I am appalled.