I had an early start this morning, hoping to have the gym to myself so I was there by 8.15. There were three cars in the carpark but one left as I was arriving. The lights were on but the two people who were working out were ready to leave, giving me the whole space to myself. Bliss! I turned off the awful music and set about my warm-up stint on the bike ... and I heard the door behind me opening and one of the trainers come in, full of cheer and bubble. She marched over to the TV, switched it on and started to sing along with it.
I suppose I could learn to live with the music but it's the accompanying images which get to me: toned bodies, both male and female, make me feel inadequate. There's one program which concentrates on female bodies and it lingers just a little bit too long on the curved posteriors and oiled shoulders. Soft porn, I think they call it.
I'm becoming a bit of a prude in my old age.
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