Why all the mirrors?

Today I got a text from John telling me formal ring training won't start for another week due to a delay in the equipment that's coming from the UK. I decided that it was time for me to start to get in shape even if the punching part will only start next week and so I skulked back into Fitness First with expired membership card in hand.

Now, to their credit, they didn't laugh as they scanned the card that undoubtedly showed that in its one year of validity I came in about 4 times and three of those were probably to sit in a steam room. Instead the chirpy Filipino seemed genuinely pleased to have me back amongst their flock. I signed what I had to sign, paid what I had to pay, and ventured into the dressing rooms. I'm not a gym aficionado but I really wonder if every gym has the same number of mirrors as this particular one. However ashamed you are of your slightly flabby (SHUT UP) ageing body, with every turn there it is staring right back at you. I'm assuming the mirrors are there for the masses of well groomed and tight bodied Lebanese blokes instead of us pie eaters that hail from Blighty.

I quickly got dressed and, eyes down, I marched into the gym. Now, the trick is trying to look like you know exactly what you're doing - even though it's clearly evident from your body that you're not exactly a regular. A stretch here, a neck roll there and I was on the running machine. With Ipod blasting with Hip Hop music and towel stylishly placed around the neck I astonished myself with a 20 minute run. My pleasure was tarnished by the fact that the girl running on the machine in front of me, who was there when I started and was there when I stopped, didn't have a drop of sweat on her body hugging Lycra, whereas my blue banana tee shirt could quite easily have come straight out of a swimming pool (a stinky, sweat filled pool at that).

I convinced myself that she'd had a revolutionary sweat gland removal operation, rolled my neck, stretched my legs and took my sweaty, flabby and tired body back into the dressing room, only to have it shame me with every turn........oh dear god, WHY ALL THE MIRRORS?!!!