No, I'm fine. Really.
I'd not been to the gym in a while (I go through fits and starts - the current "fit" has been about a year) - I digress...

I went back to my gym - it was a manly gym - full of men being men on steroids. I only ever saw one woman there who, well, I'm not sure - By God she was ugly - but she could bench press about a gazillion kilos **shudder**.

Again, I digress.

I decided that the best thing to do was to go on the running machine to warm up - fine. Not a problem, I'll take it easy. 10, yes 10, minutes later and I'm jogging gently and I've just notched it up a bit and - ugh, what's the chest pain - why is my arm aching. That can't be good.

SHIT! I'm having a heart attack.

I've gone dizzy, I can't breathe - but I've only been here 10 minutes on the bloody treadmill...

Ok, I know it's not a heart attack as I'm not dead yet - Ok, how to extricate myself without looking like a complete tool.

Ah - there is no way - I'm hyperventilating, I clearly can't breathe, I've gone red (which is an achievement given my skin colour) - so I'll be as cool as I can.

Ah - I can't be **even remotely cool** - I staggered outside and sat on the steps, trying desperately to cool down and not die.

Crap - I'm failing at that too....

Eventually, I manage to stagger - pathetically - to the changing rooms and get showered and dressed.

I've admitted this to noone as I was at the gym as long as I would have been for a full hours workout anyway.

10 minute jogging = 45/50 minutes of looking like a fat, unhealthy, beached whale.

I've since left that gym and joined one where it's ok to die pathetically in public.
(james_tiger_woods is going to start his killing spree on the, Sat 11 Jul 2009, 12:14, Reply)