Regular visits to the gym can be an addictive lifestyle choice, but can it become an addiction at a relatively older age? Or should the fast-paced house of pain be avoided?
By LEON VAN NIEROP
For me a gym has always been a place of horrors worse than House of Wax (2005) starring Paris Hilton. She was actually more terrifying than the remade 3-D movie from the 1953. Six-packs and narcistic men parading half naked in order for others to gawk at their perfection in front of mirrors with sideward glances and sniggers at those not as perfect, especially if you are from a generation old enough to be the grandfathers, is foremost in my over-active (perhaps mislead) mind. Kind of like a Woody Allen reciting one of his neurotic monologues.
Make no mistake. Of course, not the entire gym fraternity falls into this category, far from it, but that is the image one gets from idle talk around dinner tables and gossip. Not to even mention the eyefuls some gym bunnies get in the shower, or so they boast. This could also stem from overwrought gay movies or wishful thinking.
I foolishly, without preparation…