After a painless trip to my dentist this morning ("No problem, a simple crack in the enamel filling, no decay so no drilling. Here, I'll just replace it,") I arrived at the Gym for my induction hour.
The Fitness Suite upstairs has twenty minutes of cardio (bikes, rowers, cross-trainers, treadmills) and forty minutes of muscle development machines. Fifteen repetitions times three with a minute's rest between sets. I think I remember how they all work.
The instructor, Matt, was friendly in that way of all youngish people who deal with sixty year olds and are amazed they retain even their basic physical and mental faculties. It was "Nigel" this and "Nigel" that, but over the hour it became less forced. (I notice the same trajectory with my dentist who is of a similar young age). There is probably something Freudian/Jungian going on here as well - paternal projection, filial role-absorption; who knows?
I think it's back to the gym tomorrow morning for my first run-through: I have a concession.
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It turns out my filling replacement this morning was free. As I lay back with my mouth agape like Ed Milliband the dentist explained that this was Government policy to prevent over-treatment by dentists keen to drag people back after their check-ups for endless, expensive but unnecessary fillings. Get it right in one session and don't stinge on prevention is, I suppose, the incentive being aligned here.
As the practitioner pointed out, none of this applied to my case where an old filling had just broken, and in purely financial terms he might consider he was pretty well disincentivised to treat me.
"Still, it's Christmas :-)".
