Family & Kids

Us and the Gym

Got this from twitter –
I broke up with my gym
We we
re just not working out

I actually belong to Virgin Active lately for the first time ever. So TomTom can work out for rugby. “Its absolutely essential Dad! Everyone . . . “
And how many times does he actually use the gym? Um, not often. To put it mildly.


correction: Second time. Aitch bought me a ten year contract when Virgin’s predecessor¬† – Health & Racquet Club, remember them? – first started many moons ago but my shadow never darkened the door.


Tom now belongs to the gym next door. Cheaper, closer. And he’s going regularly.

Update on the update:
Didn’t last. Takes after ‘is Dad ‘e does.

Family & Kids, Life

A Day Off (for a married man)

A long day off stretched ahead of me. My schedule looked like this:






“Oh, I booked you for an assessment at the gym at 6am” says my Aitch.

GYM? My shadow never darkens the door of any gym! She knows that! “Calm down, it’s with Tanya the biokineticist and it’s for Vitality points” Aitch instructs me patiently. “And I told you about it” she reminds me.

Oh, well, thank goodness its early, the rest of the day will be just me and chilling.

Aitch is taking the younger to school and doing his class reading, so I suggest we meet for breakfast before her chemo, making my second appointment for the day. My day off is filling up.

At the gym Tanya worked my case with pushups and crunchies and other forms of torture – which seem like nothing compared to when she starts measuring me.

“It’s OK, just put 75kg” I said for weight.
“No I must measure” she says, hauling out the scale from under the torture bed.
“92,8” she announces. Oh.

“99cm” I say as she approaches me with the tape (knowing that over 100 classifies one as obese in this freaky anal gym-world environment.). “106” she deadpans. I clearly hear the implied “Jy’s obese, ou bees”.

But she’s very sweet in the end, telling me I’m absolutely perfect and supremely healthy if it wasn’t for the fact that I’m fat and unfit. I squeak into the bottomest of the “acceptable” rating. Up from “fair” six months ago (which is the last time I did any bending or pushing). Aitch will get her bonus Vitality points. Phew!!
Tanya gives me a list of stuff I must eat (crunchy and fruity) and stuff I must avoid (succulent and tasty).

I get home and Jess is waiting to be taken to school.

At breakfast with Aitch at Oscar’s on the Berea, I get prrring prrring (actually I got Reelin’ and Rockin’ as Jessie has changed my ringtone).
“Why aren’t you at the clinic?”
Mad scramble for St Mary’s hospital at Marianhill, gotta stop at home to pull on some long pants – How was I to know? I’m on leave! (OK, if I’d read my sms earlier . . . ) – As I shovel a last mouthful of Oscar’s kipper into my beak, Aitch shoves a list into my hand.

So now my day looks like this:
6.00am Torture and Humiliation

7.10am Jess to school

8.00am Breakfast with Aitch

8.30am Eye Clinic volunteer duty
(arrived 9.20am – could get fired – yeah, right!)

1.30pm Fetch Jess from school

2.30pm Fetch Tom from soccer

3.30pm Take Jessie to swimming

4.30pm Fetch Jess from swimming

5.00pm Take Tom to cub scouts

7pm Fetch Tom from cubs

Jessie asked nicely to skip swimming. I said FINE. Tommy immediately said “Great, so I’m skipping cubs”.
No way. It was the AGM and all the cubs were in full uniform. My fella had all his kit on and looked really spiff. So much so that his bare feet almost didn’t seem to matter. Except to Akela.

CubScout Wandsbeck (5)

Bliksem! Tomorrow I’m going to take the day off. By going to work.