Today, yours truly’s exercise class of choice is the inaugural Studio Cycling session at a Leeds leisure centre. Not the intensive and deeply exerting spinning type of pedal work; moreover a gentle easing into the world of gymnasium cycle activity….. Or so I’m assured by the leisure centre operative with whom I spoke yesterday.
At least. I think the conversation took place with a member of the centre’s staff. He’d the same colour polo shirt as the instructors, but if truth be told I’ve no idea whether his t-shirt’s left breast sported a Leeds city council motif, as per the uniform adorned by centre staff.
For all I know the person in the red polo shirt may’ve been (like me) merely a customer. Consequently, when later turning up for this 10.30 am fitness session, I maybe subjected to a harrowing, intensive exercise period where my heart rate will treble. Consequentially, my visage taking on the strained look and scarlet chromatics of a Space Hopper; in addition to producing a volume of sweat capable of filling a medium-sized paddling pool.
Anyhow, irrespective of whether this affable individual was a member of staff or not, his musings by simile seemed logical enough. Informing GJ Strachan to think of conventional spinning classes akin to the exerting challenges of a front peloton rider in a cycling race. The less energetic class I’d enquired about resembling the lesser effort of a peloton’s rear cyclist – Protected by the group of team mates in front, he/she requiring lower exertion levels in the face of reduced wind drag.
I commence this paragraph two hours after the earlier prose. Yours truly recently concluding forty five minutes exercise at the aforementioned leisure centre. My earlier pondering over levels of exertion required in the Studio Cycling class remaining unanswered as, on arrival, I was informed these fitness sessions don’t commence for a fortnight…. The misunderstanding a result of Leeds Active online booking system incorrectly set up to accept class bookings for today.
Alternatively, I spent my time in the gym partaking in twenty five minutes of cardio-vascular exercises upon the treadmill and cycling machine; followed by twenty minutes of upper body weights.
Despite recent best efforts at protecting my wellbeing, this afternoon I sustained an minor finger injury while transporting my mother’s weekly shop from car boot over the threshold into her East Ardsley abode.
The injury itself so insignificant it barely warrants mention. However, the cut sustained on my index finger during this incident, along with subsequent covering of the wound, resulting in affliction from a first world problem of epic scale. This inconvenience being currently unable to utilise my fingerprint to unlock my phone, or use saved passwords on said device….. Aaarrrgghhh!
Talking of fitness, health and general wellbeing, this morning my 29 year old son Jonny attended his annual private health care assessment in Leeds city centre. At the conclusion of the checks, my boy text to inform me during this stringent set of health checks becoming embroiled in the following verbal interaction with the medical specialist:-
Doctor – “Well Mr Strachan, you really need to stop masturbating!”
Jonny – “Why’s that, doc?!…… Is endangering to my overall wellbeing?!”
Doctor – “No, I want to take your blood pressure!”