Perspectives

I've blogged about my gymming experiences before. But that was before I turned 30. And about x kilos ago. So, ladies and gentlemen, the gym is back in my life. Every morning, I realise how old I'm getting when I can't drag myself out of bed to get in an hour, no scratch that, 45 minutes, of gymming before I head to work. Funny, I thought people slept less with old age. What is this? Some sort of weird sleep-while-you-can gift before insomnia and dementia set in?

Each morning, make that every other morning, make that most mornings, make that...oh well, I went today...so anyway, each morning that I go to the gym, I dress in my faded t-shirt, slightly too-long track pants (I want to buy cool new Adidas ones with the stripes down the side but somehow can't justify them to myself until I make the gym a regular habit), and sneakers that will soon - if I exercise enough - allow my toes to peep out (previous parentheses apply).

Anyway, so the other morning Anando and I were walking towards the gym, which is near our offices, when I noticed a bunch of women walking ahead of us. Backpacks, sports shoes, frumpy clothes (branded though). And I looked down at Anando and me - backpacks and assorted bags containing change of clothes, office shoes, lunch, laptop. We were all dressed the same. Happily, Holmes-like, I conjectured - "Oh look, they're going to the gym too."

Anando sighed. His delusional wife, he must be thinking. "No, they're just students."

When you start thinking students dress like they're going to the gym, you really are old.