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Journalism of Courage
Guiltily aware of the importance of exercise, I still can’t manage to get off my posterior, and just do it. I have a hundred excuses. I can’t run in my neighbourhood because the stray dogs start nipping at my ankles. The one existing gym in my area has been demolished by the municipal authorities, and so on. This is all the more infuriating because my husband manages to run for half an hour every day and smirks knowingly when he hears my excuses.
Recently, at a party, I met an athletic 45-year-old who deals in home gym equipment. He talked of the convenience of a treadmill at home. “I switch on my TV and time flies. I don’t have to drive to a gym and await my turn,” he said. I immediately had visions of me springing up at dawn, jumping on a 60,000 rupee crosstrainer and having abs like Jane Fonda’s in a few months. I disregarded my sceptical husband and bought a crosstrainer on installments — Rs 5,000 for 12 months. The machine was duly installed in my two-bedroom house. It had a heart rate monitor and options of hill or mountain climbing. Never mind that it was a 10 ft by 4 ft monstrosity, which completely took over my toddler’s room.
Over the next few days, I tried working out with the TV on, with music playing, or even reading while on the crosstrainer. I could never manage more than 10 minutes. On a good day, 15. The in-built calorie burning indicator usually read a dismal 40. Within two weeks, I gave up completely. I stopped entering my son’s room because the sight of the machine was a cruel reminder of how much money I’d wasted.
Meanwhile, I continued to extol the virtues of the crosstrainer to my still smirking husband. On the side, however, I was desperately trying to palm it off on to unsuspecting friends. “Not a chance,” said an old pal, who had learnt her lesson after spending Rs 30,000 on a one-year gym membership and going thrice. An interior decorator friend had already fallen victim to the home gym salespitch. “I was going to check if you want to buy a treadmill,” she told me.
After three months of paying the installments, I summoned the courage to call up the gym equipment salesman. “Boss, I’m not paying you any more,” I told him flatly. He didn’t seem surprised at all and sent a truck to collect it. Sure, there must be some people out there who actually use home gym equipment. But they’re the self-motivated, die-hard, workout fanatics. Not lazy like us. As for me, the only thing that got slimmer was my wallet.
–leher.kala@expressindia.com
