Adjusting to London - chapter 5

I received a voucher for a one-week guest pass at a local gym. London is great with free things, if you know how to work the system. My former housemate knew how to work the system and was always getting free things. I’m not so good at it, but this voucher pretty much dropped itself in my lap.

Going to a gym is a great opportunity for a culturtwining sociologist. The gym is in a neighbourhood that is mainly afro-carribean and african, but the gym’s clientele was definitely more mixed. Amazingly diverse, actually.

A few things were decidedly more African than British, though, at least in terms of my own understanding of what constitutes african-ness and british-ness. For example, there were many many more men on the treadmills than women, and the men were mostly jogging while the women were mostly walking. This is what it’s like in the Middle East and, I’d suspect, Africa. it’s not what I imagined it would be like in the UK. A fair share of those jogging men were also shamelessly staring as I took my treadmill very seriously. Not so offensively that I had to leave, and I tip my hat to the demure British culture that infused this gym, because when I caught them doing it one irked glance from me got them to look the other way. So I jogged in peace, and that decidedly is more British than African, at least in the stereotypes in my mind. In the places where I’ve lived, at least, I would only go to a co-ed gym at all if it catered only to Westerners. Even the gym in my lush 5* hotel in Egypt had a problem with the trainers hanging out in the gym for no good reason when I was jogging and no one else was there.

So, yeah, a bit of inappropriateness but really it was fine.

Fitness First is the gym I went to!

Even if not on the treadmills, there were quite a few women there. Biking, doing weights, spa-ing and attending aerobics. I feel my main observations about the women might not be appropriate for a public blog. Suffice it to say that life in the locker room was not what I am accustomed to.

So, as far as the adjusting to London part, here are some of the things I learned: a gym is a wonderfully introverted place. If you don’t want to talk to anyone, you don’t. I admit I had a fabulous week in the company of myself. At the same time, it is a window into the world of people I might otherwise not ever meet. I don’t see in what other context I might otherwise meet the people I encountered at the gym. So maybe I shouldn’t have been such an introvert, and rather taken advantage of the social opportunity it presented. Finally, it was a time suck! The entire endeavour took between 2 and 3 hours a day including walking there, exercising, showering, and gaining my bearings. It was great for one week, but a Londoner who has a regular membership must either not work elsewhere, or be truly devoted, or have boundless energy for multitasking.

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  • http://beinghappygirl.blogspot.com happygirl

    I wonder if mid eastern and african women think about their “hotness” standings in their countries like us westerners do? It sounds like a nice diversion, this gym. It reminds me I need to start exercising, like yesterday. :)