One of the things I always bring along on my flights is my sportswear. But, owing to my lack of discipline, it’s starting to become rather painful to unpack it again, unused, at the end of my trip.
The majority of hotels that we stay at have excellent fitness rooms. And it isn’t that I don’t like exercise. But there’s something about fitness centres that I feel uncomfortable with. First of all, most of the folks that hang out there are just too fit. They look so slick in their fashionable sportswear that they make me feel stupid in my fifteen year-old gym shorts and sneakers. What’s more, they hold out twice as long as I do, apparently without any difficulties. By the time my head has turned a flaming red and sweat is dripping from my nose, they still look as if they’ve hardly just warmed up. Another annoyance is all those TV screens showing different channels. If I try to follow one of them, I just get distracted by the others, as a result of which I lose the rhythm of the exercise. Lastly, I can’t help feeling foolish rowing, running, cycling or climbing without actually getting anywhere.
I have to admit that, on those sporadic occasions when I do visit the fitness centre, I feel highly energised afterwards, but it might take ages before I actually get to that point. I always find an excuse to postpone my visits. There have even been times when I’d actually changed into my sportswear and was already on my way to the fitness room, but still found a reason to postpone the whole thing. Instead, I throw the clean sportswear back into my suitcase and spend the rest of the day lounging about, obviously feeling guilty about it. Especially when I run into a colleague who has just had a workout, looking rosy-cheeked and energetic.
I might as well leave my sportswear at home, if only to free myself from that continuous struggle. Who knows? One day I might actually start to miss it.