Back to the Gym

I pay a large sum every month to a glitzy gym that allows me to go, at any time, to any two of their branches in Hong Kong to work out. The large sum also allows me to attend yoga classes in any of their five specialty studios scattered across Hong Kong island as often as I want. 

Given an automatic charge to my credit card every month and a myriad of fitness options to choose from, I still found myself at the gym two days in a week at most. After seeing this month's credit card bill and doing as much math as my lawyer brain could take, I realized that I was paying the equivalent of a pair of shoes every time I went to the gym. I knew I needed to take action, go the gym more frequently, and spread the cost to bring it down to the equivalent of something that wouldn't feel as painful, like a t-shirt. A really plain t-shirt.

Day 1 of my renewed enthusiasm for the gym was today. I shut down my work computer at exactly 7:20 p.m. and made it to the 7:35 p.m. "Power Hour" spinning class. The class was being taught by an investment banker who apparently also had time to teach a spinning class. I pumped, I wheezed, I gasped, and I almost fainted.

I think I can forego buying a few more shoes.