So I walked into the local Y armed with a credit card. The dulcet tones of Rod Stewart throbbed in the background as I completed the mountain of paperwork. Surprisingly little was required to join, most of the paperwork was for the personal trainer i also signed up for to ensure that I don't die while they're 'directing me'. Questions like.. "Is your cholesterol over 200?" "is your blood pressure so high you can hear it?" "is it so high other people can hear it?" "Have you ever had a heart attack?" "Are you having a heart attack right now?"

After a few minutes, I was done. I was ready. Fitness isn't that hard. It's just filling out forms. This is why you never see fat accountants. Now I just have to wait for the trainer to get back to me. Within "48 business hours". What does that mean? There's only 8 business hours in any given day. unless it's a weekend then it's 0. So does this mean I have to wait another week? And who were the people around me? They looked serious. The place was packed on a weekday afternoon. Don't these people have jobs? They seemed unconcerned that they were missing out on life.

She handed me a calendar listing out  classes with titles such as "Yogaflex" and "PowerPump" and the pervasive "Spinning" which just sounds to me like a euphemism for death.

So it's done. I just sit and wait. For how long I don't know. I think I'll eat a donut.

More to come.