With the stereotypes attached to women from my tribe and the constant pressure coming from my significant other about my weight, I was forced to part with a good amount of francs to join the gym.

And after religiously attending my gym classes every day, I came to the realisation that the gym does not really mean fitness and to my readers today, I say, do not be intimidated when the flamboyant people in society go around singing gymnasium.As you can imagine I had high expectations of what kind of people I would meet at the gym and what they looked like. In my head I had the vivid imagination of working out with people that were more flexible than Andrew Garfield and could pull faster moves than the ones he pulled off in The Amazing Spiderman.On the very first day I went to the gym I was welcomed by a good number of beauties hanging all over the sports club like they were there for a photo shoot. They were all clad in their Speedo and Nike shoes with perfectly drawn out eyes brows, amazing silky hair and nails that looked like they had never seen the cruelty of mud with spectacular jewellery to finish up this elegant look.I naturally asked my trainer what was going on and he was more than delighted to brag about how busy their gym is. Noticing that he had not clearly understood what my question was I headed for the changing rooms and wore my pants that looked like old pyjamas and an old T-shirt that I have had since high school. I shyly walked to the treadmill to begin my workout.Before I could go any further, I saw a good number of handsome men walk in and head to the "masculine” side. I was definitely excited to see some good looking fellows heading to sweat it out, but boy was I wrong. Like the girls, the boys headed to the side that had more heavy weight lifting - not to challenge themselves to the weights but because there were more mirrors on that side of the room. That did not stop me. I quickly stepped off the treadmill and went to rub shoulders with my fellow gymers. I must say I was disappointed to find that not only were these men (that looked like caramel covered chocolate) admiring their almost invisible biceps, they were also engaged in very cheap chit chat about a certain colleague at work that was giving a certain someone a devilish look. It was at that moment that I realised I had paid a lot of money and had to get my money’s worth. So I headed back the treadmill and run like I was being hunted by a buffalo.