I’ve recently been convinced to join a gym. There, I said it. I know, I know, who am I and what have I done with Elana, and what happened to “this place seems like what hell would look like,” etc. Well, things change, people change, priorities change, bad habits change, and when push comes to shove I’m pretty happy with my shiny blue key ring.
Barring two embarrassing pool episodes in the first week, my transition to becoming a gym-goer has been pretty smooth. I even have a gym bag now, and can almost remember all the things I’m meant to pack in order to maximize my visits. Showering with only a hand towel to dry myself today wasn’t necessarily the most comfortable of experiences, for example, but at least I had clean socks and deodorant to put on afterwards.
In any case, earlier this week I found myself in my first spin class, after a know-it-all Orthopaedic told me that running isn’t good for my knee. And I loved it. Yes, I was just as shocked.
It was only last week that I’d said I feel like I have one more rave left in me, despite the fact that I’m no longer into some of the *ahem* behaviours that used to help us stay up all night dancing. And indeed, it turns out I may have many raves left in me yet, all in the weird dark triangular room at the back of the Gordon Pool gym. The neon lights, pumping music, heart-racing, the endorphin rush – it’s totally raving for adults. Or healthy people, as the case may be. At various points during the class I was this close to throwing my hands triumphantly in the air, and when the DJ oops I mean teacher put on an Infected Mushroom track as the last track, I literally wanted to shout “woo!” Yes, “woo!” And since I’ve gone this far, I might as well admit that my new bright green work-out top glowing fluoro yellow was also part of the fun.
So, while I’m neither committing to a spin class a day nor ruling out a rave comeback just yet, I’ll definitely be going back for more. Does anyone know somewhere in Tel Aviv that sells glow-in-the-dark water bottles?