Drop and gimme 20

Last night I spent an hour in the park sweating in a vest whilst being told what to do by a super-fit, bald man.

No it wasn’t an impromptu bout of sexual experimentation, it was in fact the start of a new fitness regime in the hands of British Military Fitness. The deal is simple; you pay them money and an ex army trainer shouts at you regularly until you become fit.

Personally I was dead against it, but my wife ignored my protests, signed me up and arranged baby sitting so that I could hold her hand. Throughout the ordeal I berated her with threats of her walking home, me never talking to her again and murder. Later on, I was praised for being a supportive husband. I can’t work that one out but I accepted the brownie points all the same.

It started easily enough with jumping jacks and running in a circle. Then progressed to press-ups which I was relieved meant using my knees to make it easier. This was thanks to my blue coloured ‘unfit person’ vest. Without knees, my previous personal press-ups record is five which I’m still proud of.

The shouting was all in good fun actually, and always directed at the group rather than any individual. If you were struggling then he’d offer help or an easier exercise. It was a bit weird running through a busy park full of kids and dog walkers and suddenly hearing “ENEMIES! GO TO THE RIGHT” which meant run five metres, crawl five metres then do five press-ups and run back. Apparently that’s how to get rid of enemies.

At one point we were jogging along and he shouted something as we passed a woman walking her little fluffy dog. She immediately picked the dog up and said “Oooh, dear. What is it? Don’t cry fluffy, don’t cry”

That made me laugh. At least until we got to the end of the park and cooled down with a series of endurance stress positions stretching exercises.

The weirdest part of it was that I agreed to sign up afterwards.

No sleep last night though. Too much pain.

1 comment August 5th, 2008