Changing Gyms in High Wycombe

Today, I made three decisions.

1. Having flown home from Portugal yesterday – where I did nothing at all for 10 days – I decided it was time to get back to the gym.

2. Having seven potential evening training sessions per week, in various types of combat, I decided to start going to the gym in the morning again.

3. Having nearly knocked myself out countless times simply walking around in Muscle Zone at Handy Cross (the place is cluttered to the point of being lethal), I decided to change gyms. Again.

The morning commute from my gym to my work is pretty awful, so I looked for a gym much closer to work. Thus, I found myself at the Oaks Fitness Centre in Flackwell Heath, much closer to work than Muscle Zone. I knew it didn’t have much in the way of free weights but, first thing in the morning, figured that probably wouldn’t matter.

However, just as I was about to sign the form, I double-checked the free weights room…

…they have one bar. One.

So, if anybody else is benching, or squatting, or deadlifting – or indeed doing any kind of barbell exercise…everybody else is screwed. Granted, there are dumbbells and a smith machine, but I can’t join a gym where only one person can be doing a barbell exercise at any given time.

So I left and, instead, joined Apollo Fitness. It’s further away (further even that Muscle Zone), but it’s stacked with decent equipment and staffed by wonderful, friendly people. Also, they give discounted memberships to local wrestlers – so there really wasn’t a choice!

By this point, time was marching on, so I set to work ruining my back:

  • Deadlifts (60, 100, 140, and 180kg)
  • Wide-grip pull ups
  • Leg extended chin ups
  • Machine reverse flies
  • Plate-loaded pull-downs

Then I went home and got back to what I do best; drinking and hanging out with my brother and girlfriend.

About the Author
Ed Gamester is a silly man who lives in the United Kingdom. He is the harbinger of Ghost Squad, singer of Gay Bum and author of A Rum Run Awry. He fights, kills and dies for TV and films, and gallivants around the place wrestling, drinking and lifting things for glory and profit. Where Ed treads, there stamp the boots of the Guild. Ed does not wear glasses, but feels this photograph makes him look more intelligent and artistically talented than he is. Feel free to contact him: he is disappointingly affable.

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