Episode 263
“Just do it” is written in glittery script on Sarah’s black tank top. She jumps up and down on the edge of the pool with her arms outstretched, foam dumbbells in both hands, and alternately stretches her left and right legs towards the opposite dumbbell. At her feet in the pool: twenty more or less unathletic people – mostly older women, but also one or two men – who are trying with all their might to imitate Sarah.
I am one of the gentlemen and Sarah is my aqua fitness trainer. At some point it was just time and “I had to do something”, as they say in circles of people who grew up with a lack of sport and a tendency to weak will. I now jump around in the water with foam dumbbells and other props three times a week, and as long as I don’t have to watch myself doing it, that’s fine.
The legitimate question “Why on earth aqua fitness?” is answered by pointing out that anything else would be even more horrific. The only thing I need to overcome is the surroundings: the swimming pool is part of a gym where everything is exactly the same as in the gyms I know from my nightmares. The men’s locker room in particular is a haven of horror: too many sweaty men in a small space, bodies in competition, testosterone at its limit. I follow the tried and tested principle of “close your eyes and keep going”.
“Tuck in your belly button!”
“You’re just doing this for yourself!” Sarah shouts into her headset, motivating us to increase the pace of our floundering around in the water. Her cheering repertoire also includes the phrases “Tuck in your belly button!”, “I want to see your feet!” and “More! More! More!”. None of this would be worth reporting on if there was no music playing during aqua fitness. But of course there’s music playing here, there’s always music playing in gyms. Bastard overcoming music. Bootcamp blasts. Just-do-it pop. In the case of my aqua fitness class, Sarah fires up the same playlist every time.
I secretly looked it up: It’s called “Best of Aerobic & Cardio 80s Workout Mix” or something similar and contains grotesquely sped-up versions of popular mood hits like “Every Breath You Take” by The Police, “Go West” by the Pet Shop Boys, “Because The Night” by Patti Smith/Bruce Springsteen and “Human” by the Killers. The fact that most of the songs don’t come from the 80s is completely irrelevant; after all, it’s always the 80s somehow. What is crucial is that the versions all sound as if they were the full playback of a Eurodisco cover band jumping around on the city festival stage in Wermelskirchen, whose members had previously attended the “Dignityless and Fun” seminar as a group.
Speaking of “undignified”: Sometimes we put the foam dumbbells aside and grab a pool noodle. I’ve twisted myself so badly a few times while fiddling with this structure improperly that I was afraid I’d have to laboriously untie it again before the rest of the course. But things are slowly getting better. “WHOU!” Sarah shouts when we hop around like Venus on the things in the water. She then sounds a bit like a pain in the ass who has recognized her favorite song at a concert and has to let everyone know that they have recognized it. With Sarah, this “WHOU!” is very motivating, I have to admit that.
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At the end, to loosen up and stretch, Sarah switches to the ballad playlist, which exclusively contains hotel bar versions of popular slime ballads. But I like the Eurodisco whip much better, simply because you can’t really afford to be too disgusted when fidgeting with these 160 bpm versions without losing your footing so much that you’re shocked swallowed half the pool water.
Will I last? And if so, for how long? There is a great danger that things will continue as usual: after a phase of addictive exaggeration, the sweet indolence will gain the upper hand again.
(Note: This is not the exact same playlist from our author, but just listen to the first song and you’ll know how he feels during his exercise…)