Fit as a fiddle

Now don’t get me wrong… The title is no reference to my current physical condition. It is one of my fervent dreams to achieve this condition for the past 3 years and still counting….
While I would like to believe that I am pleasantly plump, my hubby and family have very cruelly demystified my belief by using the darn 3-letter word F.A.T. So proactively *that is after some 6 months of dilly-dallying* I joined my office gym.

I had to take a fitness test before I got to use the fitness facilities. So after successfully scoring single digit points out of a total score of 100 which convinced my instructor that this girl is in urgent need of the facility she let me join. Since some of my colleagues use the gym in the evenings, I very cleverly went for the afternoon slot.

Now, the first day at the changing room, I almost died of shock. I went in and I was faced with women of all sizes and shapes very nonchalantly changing into their gym clothes. (Thankfully they have separate changing rooms for men and women) I made a dash for the shower cabinet, locked it and got into my gym clothes in record speed and ran out. Next came the onerous task to actually start working out. When I gingerly kept my right foot (yes, I am very traditional) into the hallowed territory dreaming open eyed about the slim trim new improved version of me, again I almost died a sudden death, this time due to acute embarrassment. I was the ONLY one wearing ammachi* types tracks (that too in bright red colour) and a matronly T-shirt. Wait a minute, I take it back, even my ammachi won’t be caught dead wearing those tracks while the others were attired in teeny-weeny figure hugging biking shorts and sleeveless Tees. I tell you, these sights were already dousing my enthusiasm and doing nothing for my already plummeting morale, but still I lingered on in the vision of my improved self, which I would attain in a few weeks time. (Did I tell you that I am optimistic???)

My instructor then got around to showing me the functionality of the cross trainers, treadmill, rowing machine and what nots… Since the treadmill was something I felt comfortable, heaved myself up and got things going. I had visions of starting to run like P.T.Usha while the least I could manage was perform the mini earthquake sequence like Shilpa Shirodkar* in some Bollywood dance number.

Now I am all for people who can run effortlessly on the treadmill. I can just salivate looking at their stamina and I get the nice feeling that I am the one who is losing all the calories when they do all the hard work. After the Shirodkar episode, I have been avoiding the treadmill like plague. Now my latest friend is the cross trainer. So while I work out the dynamics of the “push- stamp” cross trainer routine while still ogling at the treadmill dudes, it is time for the ab exercises.

Now this is the most demoralizing exercise of the lot where time and again I am made to realize that colleagues double my age have triple my flexibility. As I grit my teeth and stretch, I constantly think that there must be seriously wrong with me to willingly submit myself through the sheer torture of stretching my TTs*. This is the time when the mirage of the slim trim new improved version of me becomes really very hazy. I have three quarters of the mind to chuck it all and head to the café for that sinful chocolate brownie.

All the above forms of torture are still bearable but what I find really horrendous is when some known colleague comes to gym in the afternoon slot. I get a stomach crunching feeling of being underdressed when my colleagues catch me in the gym. You can tackle them in formal wear with confidence with strategically placed scarfs and shawls which hide the bulge but when they see you in your red ammachi tracks, you get the sensation very akin to when you are caught stealing. (Not that I have much expertise in stealing) Anyways all you can do is to give a “valicha chiri”* and continue sporting.

All these forms of torture have done absolutely nothing to my physique. In fact my weighing scale will tell you in confidence that I have gained a couple more kilos, which you will never hear from moiself. Colleagues have come and gone and in the meanwhile lost 10 kilos whereas all I have done is come and gone.

Seriously you won’t think that it is due to the fact, that I have been having a lot more chocolate brownies, muffins, cookies, tarts, and pastries now that I have started gymming. In fact, the sole reason that I am having all these is to reward my body for the torture I am putting it through with the strenuous workouts and ab crunches. Anyways, tomorrow is an other day and I still have visions of the slim trim new improved version of me. (Well, I did say before that I am optimistic, didn’t I ???)


* Ammachi - grandmother
* Shilpa Shirodkar – A former Bollywood heroine who was very generously endowed. Usual romantic Bollywood dance numbers became hilarious when she was shown trampling some poor Switzerland hill with her slow motion run.
* Valicha chiri – a watered smile which is more of a grimace rather than a smile
*TTs – I can’t be telling you everything. Go figure it yourself ;-p