Holidays do have their downsides, not many, but a few. One of them - at least for me - is that exercise does not even cross my mind when living my freedom to the full. And when the routine including the gym hits you in the chilly Amsterdam, it is not a pretty nor comfortable sight.
As my working day today stretched until seven, I decided to go straight from the office to the gym and to the Pilates class. I tried it for the first time a few weeks back and it was tough but fantastic. But going in with no training for weeks and a few visits to Fatburger in California led to the instructor asking me at one point:
"You seem very stiff. What have you been doing?"
"Nothing, I think that is the problem."
"Nothing?"
"Well, eating."
Pilates class is interesting. The stretches are so tough that people start unconsciously breathing really loud and hard. At first people find it a bit embarrassing and awkward but after the time the class sounds like a birth clinic. Funny indeed.
I have found this sporty type from myself only during the last few years. I absolutely hated sports in school as I managed to convince myself that the slightly stubby kid with thickest of the thick glasses was good only for being the pride and joy of the Finnish language teacher. I kind of regret it now that the way sports was taught in school made me take this long before I realised that by training regularly I could become good in something that I actually enjoy.
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