It’s not the first time in my life that I’ve had a gym membership, but it is the first time that I have found myself wanting to go. The gym is only about 50 metres from my house so I can’t use distance as an excuse not to turn up. It’s a lovely space, with pastel walls and big industrial windows. The bathroom has free emergency supplies of tampons, deodorant, hair ties and sometimes even chocolate, and there is always a pot of spiced cinnamon tea you can drink before you start your class.
Here, I’ve learned how to bench press, deadlift and squat. I’ve giggled through dance routines, I’ve boxed out my anger and I’ve discovered stomach muscles I never knew existed in pilates.
