Peter Lyons gives new year's advice for novice gym goers.
I renewed my membership at the local YMCA recently.
The lady gave me a discount.
Apparently, I am good for the self-image of other patrons.
I assume this was a compliment.
I took the weekly payment option.
I have always had commitment issues.
As an economics teacher, seeing the money disappear from my account each week keeps me motivated to attend.
I have had a lengthy gym career.
I live in hope it balances my eating and drinking excesses.
My sister informed me that it doesn't, but that she'd hate to think what I would look like otherwise.
She has a refreshing honesty that verges on the brutal.
At one stage I considered joining Les Mills in the city.
I had a few complimentary sessions.
As a partially sighted, unco-ordinated, largish, mature male, I managed to wipe out half the back row in an aerobics class.
I went left when they were heading right.
I ended up in a tangle of black Lycra and slender limbs.
I came to the sad realisation I am not pretty enough for Les'.
I felt like an elephant on the cast of Shortland Street.
I have been with the local Y ever since.
For those considering joining a gym in the new year I am willing to share some insights from years of experience.
Never do squats in cheap Warehouse shorts.
It is unpleasant for the ladies on the treadmills behind when they implode.
The shorts that is. Always wear boxers underneath just in case.
If you are doing bench presses make sure you have someone spotting.
I once lowered the bar only to realise I couldn't raise it.
I was faced with the stark choice of trying to roll it over my face or rolling it down over my privates.
To make matters worse, the only person who had observed my predicament was a former pupil who was too busy laughing to spring to my assistance.
I tried a step class years ago at the Warkworth community centre. Unfortunately, the boxes they used weren't particularly robust.
After 10 minutes I had reduced mine to kindling.
I fled and never returned.
I developed a phobia towards gym classes, regarding them as a mixture of revivalist spiritual meetings and Hitler Youth to music.
But in recent years I have discovered the boxing classes.
They are ideal for the blind and unco-ordinated.
I found my inner Ali.
Initially, I sparred with my mate Trish.
She is a pub brawler from way back.
Unfortunately, she had an unnerving inclination to apply the occasional knee to the groin out of habit .
We used to flail away at each other on a Saturday morning like a pair of epileptic combine harvesters.
We would then adjourn to the local cafe and feel justified in having an extra hash brown on our big breakfasts.
Unfortunately, work commitments mean Trish is no longer able to attend.
I approached a few of the shapely silhouettes in the boxing class to see if they were interested in sparring with me.
They fled.
I now spar with Paul, who is a large Maori gentleman.
He is built like a concrete truck with an extra fuel tank on the front.
I can tell when he has had a bad day at work because he starts punching before I have the pads on.
The Y is a microcosm of Auckland.
It is a melting pot of nationalities sweating and grunting together.
It is truly cosmopolitan in nature.
Members range from elderly Asian ladies to hulking Polynesians to obese economists.
Gym mirrors are designed to make you look wider than you actually are.
It is best to avoid them if you want to maintain your body image.
Ditto with the scales.
Self-delusion is essential for self-esteem as you age.
Avoid the gym when the ''Never too Old'' class is on.
The senior citizens can often be aggressive in their approach to using the equipment.
They are at the stage where they know their time is finite and don't appreciate someone wasting it.
I was once confronted by a grim-faced septuagenarian lady in Lycra who resembled a tightly wrapped prune.
She demanded to use the cable crossover to work on her pecs. She pushed me aside so I decided to hone my well-hidden abs instead.
I am looking forward to relaunching my quest for the perfect body in the new year.
I am setting realistic goals this year.
I want to put my shoes on,without having to do up the laces beforehand.
I would like to lose a chin or two.
It is important to set your goals low in order to ensure success.
• Peter Lyons is an Auckland secondary school teacher.
