Watching the Australian Open recently, it occurred to me that the annoying, obnoxious grunting that Maria Sharapova and Serena Williams produce when whacking the ball sounds exactly like what I thought were the dulcet sounds I make during our Blast class. This is upsetting as I find their grunting loud, strange and distracting, not dissimilar to an orgasm ….. do I really sound that bad on the rower?
This got me thinking about the idiosyncrasies my gym buddies all have ….
First cab off the rank is always the Old Fart …. occasionally his grunting manifests into an explosive physical force which pops out the other end! Is this a deliberate, competitive strategy to put us off our game? If no one actually hears it because in the middle of our circuit he is loudly parading on his soap box quoting Shakespeare “I came, I saw, I conquered” pretending to be Julius Caesar – did it really happen?
Our newest trainer McSweaty (you’ll understand his nickname in a minute) was keen to impress as he turned up at our new class – Run Squad X to sweat it out with the rest of us mere mortals. And sweat it out he did. Now this trainer is very skinny – there is not much meat on him. Up and down Queens Park he sprinted, squatted, lunged and burpeeeeed – and impressively all with a smile on his face.  OK, I get it, sweat is not only natural, but necessary when it comes to working out. However, our new trainer looked like Ryan Gosling in that torrential downpour scene from The Notebook. There was nothing left of him – he was reduced to liquid awesome! He was last seen shuffling home with heavy, soggy shorts forcing him to squeeze his butt cheeks together as if he had experienced some sudden gastrointestinal distress!
Then there is our latest recruit, Loverboy (who is the boyfriend of Little Miss Chatterbox). Now Loverboy is a highly intelligent, successful marketing executive who is far too busy to exercise … so he comes to the gym just to work out his finger muscles! That’s right, you read it correctly …. his finger muscles! After a hard, long day’s work he makes a huge effort to turn up in the latest Dri-Fit raring to go. Would you believe it – 3 minutes before every evening Blast class an urgent email comes in. It must be from a big, important client like Trump or Elon Musk because it needs attending to IMMEDIATELY. So off he goes to sit on the reclining bike peddling as fast as my 78-year-old mother (who has no knee cartilage left) while his fingers furiously construct an email response. Thankfully the crisis is dealt with efficiently just in time for him to join in the cool-down!
Observing my motley crew did wonders for my shattered self-conscious – what’s the big deal about my grunting during high intensity classes when you are surrounded by excess sweating, farting and email addiction? I got my mojo back, held my head high and grunted proudly during high intensity cardio.  I even got the confidence to attend the new Roll N Recover class … life was grand until the foam roller hit that nagging spot on my lower back and my inner-porn star moan accidentally popped out!

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