Where the Buffalo Roam

bulk :: 13st 1
gym sessions :: 3
miles walked :: heaps

gym

I really like the gym I’ve joined. It’s not one of those ultra-slick chains filled with ultra-slick London people who eat ‘quinoa’ and work in ‘digital’.

With all due respect to those namby-pamby Southern Jessies, this is a man’s gym. What’s more, it’s a northern man’s gym. There are no showers, no vending machines and no qualms about rage-grunting through the pain barrier.

It reminds me of boxing clubs you see in gritty urban films, where working class boys go to escape the treadmill of poor education, petty crime, drug abuse and long term incarceration. It’s a place where hopelessness and inertia are converted into throbbing temples and giant, sometimes ludicrously large muscles. Indeed, some of the men who come to this gym have muscles so large that they (the men) appear ever so slightly deformed. Indeed, the guy in the above picture, the one who looks like all of his internal organs are about to shoot out of his ears – he’s the gym owner.

Most of them have tattoos too (quite possibly all of them), and a surprisingly large number of them are bald.

The room itself is huge and there are lots and lots of machines. I spend most of my time on the cardio-vascular machines on a kind of makeshift mezzanine, looking down on the rest of the gym and secretly smiling at the vain men. And some of them really are hilariously vain, unable to stop gazing at themselves for more than a few seconds at a time. One guy yesterday, for example, ended up stroking his reflection in the mirror, before finally slipping through the glass and away, lost forever in his own private narcissistic Narnia.

On the walls there are huge posters of deformed men, and next to the deformed men there are slogans such as: ‘THIS IS NO PLACE FOR THE WEAK’ and ‘I AM THE DESTROYER OF STEEL. I AM THE CRUSHER OF SOULS. I AM THE FACE OF DESTINY. I AM THE WHITE BUFFALO.’

Despite that, it’s a very relaxed environment and everyone so far has been very friendly.

I’ve been going every other day. I’ve also been walking loads and cutting back on shitty food. As a consequence, and I’m not quite sure how this works, I have put on weight. Only a pound, but still.

Disappointing.

Therefore it’s time, I feel, to start monitoring things.

 

 

About the Author

I am Karl Webster. I wrote these words. If you liked them, you’ll be overjoyed to know that there are plenty more where they came from. So you should definitely sign up to my newsletter if you haven’t already.

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