For years I have kept to an unwritten rule of never joining a gym.
Why? Firstly, if possible, I like to get outdoors for some fresh air if I'm going to do some exercise - I spend enough time indoors. Then there's the mix of non-refundable up front payments, minimum subscriptions and all the tales of usage tailing off a month after you sign up. I know some gyms have emerged from the dark ages and offer more customer-friendly payment options now, but I've still always kept away. If some cross-training is really needed, then I try swimming or something else - anything else but the gym.
But then recently I had to break that rule, out of necessity. I was running over some leaves and turned my ankle on a hidden bit of tree branch. I'd torn ligaments on this ankle a few years back, and should have known better, but I carried on to finish my run as it didn't hurt much at first. The next day I was reminded of the folly of listening to the mind instead of the body. So I had to stop running for a while, but had a marathon coming up and felt that need to keep doing something regularly. Swimming was only possible one evening a week, whereas lunchtimes I had free but with nothing on hand. Apart from a gym that is...
So, reluctantly I ventured into its alien environs - desperate times, desperate measures. This one was pay-as-you go so at least I wasn't making a commitment, but it still felt like a self-inflicted punishment. As I sat on a cycle machine in a dingy basement there were pictures on the wall of a park, the one to be found directly outside, literally just over the road. I paid my dues and haven't been back since.
photo by Airia Running