Things not required at the Gym by 6ft 3in, 17 stone man.
Number 1. 5ft 7in Wife's medium sized running T-shirt.
Oh Yes, I arrive at Gym with a gym bag, having packed just before. I needed a gym shirt so I opened my drawer and took out one of my many Grey T shirts, I have at least 5, and just tossed it in and merrily skipped to the gym. Got all clothes out and then, at this point, I take out the grey shirt and see on the back the Mansfield Chad logo. Now, almost immediately I know I don't have a grey shirt with this on, though my wife does, from one of the mansfield Half Marathons she ran.
I am now in the position whereby I need two tshirts, one for the gym and one to wear home and have just the one I am wearing, XL and a grey one, M.
I took the only Option I had, which meant training in the T-shirt I had worn all day, which was fine, I wasn't going to smell any cleaner, so hey-ho. It was after my shower that I realised that I really couldn't bear to walk home wearing my sweaty T shirt, so I bit the bullet and poured myself into my wifes medium T-shirt (Imagine if you will the thought of pouring lumpy custard into a clear plastic bag, if you will).
Now I am not petit, nor in fact, regardless of size, do I possesses a body carved out of marble by Praxiteles. For far too many years my personal trainers have been Mr Cadbury and Mr Jack Daniels. So, I now know one thing for definite; I will retire a multi millionaire to a greek Island, surrounded by a sumptuous villa if I can feasibly invent the Human clothing shoe horn. I could model it in many different colours and style, perhaps even branded ones, with film tie ins, such as the Daniel Craig, James Bond clothing shoe horn with built in mini-digital camera (though this could be used for dodgy practices, the more I think about it).
Anyway, enough Herodotean digression. I ended up walking home feeling somewhat snuggled into said top with my fleece tightly zipped up. Oh, and how my wife laughed...and laughed.
Oh Yes, I arrive at Gym with a gym bag, having packed just before. I needed a gym shirt so I opened my drawer and took out one of my many Grey T shirts, I have at least 5, and just tossed it in and merrily skipped to the gym. Got all clothes out and then, at this point, I take out the grey shirt and see on the back the Mansfield Chad logo. Now, almost immediately I know I don't have a grey shirt with this on, though my wife does, from one of the mansfield Half Marathons she ran.
I am now in the position whereby I need two tshirts, one for the gym and one to wear home and have just the one I am wearing, XL and a grey one, M.
I took the only Option I had, which meant training in the T-shirt I had worn all day, which was fine, I wasn't going to smell any cleaner, so hey-ho. It was after my shower that I realised that I really couldn't bear to walk home wearing my sweaty T shirt, so I bit the bullet and poured myself into my wifes medium T-shirt (Imagine if you will the thought of pouring lumpy custard into a clear plastic bag, if you will).
Now I am not petit, nor in fact, regardless of size, do I possesses a body carved out of marble by Praxiteles. For far too many years my personal trainers have been Mr Cadbury and Mr Jack Daniels. So, I now know one thing for definite; I will retire a multi millionaire to a greek Island, surrounded by a sumptuous villa if I can feasibly invent the Human clothing shoe horn. I could model it in many different colours and style, perhaps even branded ones, with film tie ins, such as the Daniel Craig, James Bond clothing shoe horn with built in mini-digital camera (though this could be used for dodgy practices, the more I think about it).
Anyway, enough Herodotean digression. I ended up walking home feeling somewhat snuggled into said top with my fleece tightly zipped up. Oh, and how my wife laughed...and laughed.
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