Now, I’m a pretty simple person to please. I like standard filter coffee, I’m happy with a cheese burger and a beer and my fitness regime is a pretty standard combination of running until I don’t want to run anymore and swimming until I’m tired of swimming or when I get a used plaster in my mouth.
Sometimes I enjoy it; sometimes the idea of peeling the half-eaten pizza off my chest and going to do exercise makes me as petulant as a teenager being asked to do anything that doesn’t involve a phone or being cynical.
However, I work at a desk all day and if I want to live a healthy life, free from the threat of one day having to be cut free from my house by the fire brigade, I get on and do it.
I can safely say that at no point during my work out have I ever been tempted by the idea that my cardiovascular experience could be vastly improved with the introduction of techno music, neon lycra or a trampoline.
Like having a bowel movement, exercise is just a necessary activity undertaken to reach a desired goal. I don’t enter the toilet asking myself how I can exploit this experience to the fullest nor make it the ultimate expression of my personality by maybe taking in some candles, soft music and perhaps vlogging the whole experience on my Shitter’s Lifestyle website.
If you’ve put off exercise this long and have only been tempted if the right combination of underwater cycling, Yogaerobics, handstand tennis or Zumba jogging has come along, then you probably have the attention span of a garden pea and probably stopped reading this three paragraphs ago and won’t have been offended by my vegetable related simile.
And perhaps it’s the premium some of these fitness crazes demand that make them seem they are worth every penny they charge. After all, running is pretty much free once you’ve bought the shoes, whilst crazes like SoulCycle are charging up to £26 for a 45 minute session and they offer their own clothing range which is sure to burn a hole in your pocket as well as calories!
Plus you get to feel like you’re part of some elite cult of urbanite egomaniacs, which I’m sure passes the time in between taking selfies, Tinder swiping and verbally abusing your Uber driver.