I went to the gym this evening, despite at 5PM feeling half exhausted and almost feeling in the mood to bail and cancel late afternoon. But with my Climbing class booked and having not climbed all week I went along anyway. I was glad I did in the end. I was given a chance to climb with one of the advanced climbers who taught me a few tips and I think I have finally learned to tie off the rope to my harness correctly, which is a step towards being signed off to be able to climb outside of the class sessions.
45 minutes is just about the right duration. An hour is so much that you can't help but exhaust your arms by the end. With my right arm still aching from the TRX course last Friday, I was just pleased to last the session and hoped a quick trip to the steam room would help loosen up my tight muscles. I had not been sat in the steam room more than a couple of minutes when another chap walked in. Wearing not a towell like the rest of us, not even a pair of Shorts, but wet suite style shorts & tee shirts and sat down, and started to read the Evening Standard. I was like, what the heck? I can understand you reading in a sauna where its nice and dry but in a wet and steam filled steam room and fully dressed? It did make me smile in thought at the simple fact, there aint noubt as weird as folk!
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