The Apollo Hospital now has a renovated gym. It's not crowded, which is good for people like me. My favourite part of the gym though, is the outside - the big soccer field, with manicured lawns. My fitness instructor, on a whim, got a rugby ball this morning.
So, here's a revelation - I'm all of eight years and full of exuberance when given a chance to play sport. Rugby's in the top three list. At the end of an hour-long workout, I'm usually dying to get home for my oatmeal fix of a breakfast. Not today. I made the poor chap chuck the ball in all directions while I happily threw it back at him, even pretending I was a winger, dodging the opposition. Until I could move no more.
I sat down and noticed a bunch of stray dogs streaming across the field, playfully enjoying the morning dew. Such a happy lot. I would gladly take a couple of the young pups home. My mate and I watched their carefree routine of wanton abandon. One of the managers at the gym, an old chap walked out and chased them away, threw a stone at the dogs and caught one on the jaw. The poor creature yelped and the lot of them disappeared through the gate. I haven't been angry in a while. I was angry this morning. He couldn't even look me in the eye as he walked back into the gym. If he was younger, I think I'd knock him on the head.
