19.37: Arrive at the gym. Change into your hitherto unproblematic outfit of sports bra, ropey vest that came free with a magazine and slightly baggy leggings. Plug yourself into your iPod, skip downstairs and merrily hop onto the running machine. Switch the TV screen to BBC News, crank up Fleetwood Mac and away you go.
19.41: Slowly realise you feel slightly uncomfortable, without being able to pin down why.
19: 42: Realise that the be-frilled shorts donned so gaily that morning suddenly, for some reason, don’t feel terribly comfortable. Maybe they’re hitching up a bit. Attempt to redress the situation one-handedly, without breaking stride or drawing attention to yourself.
19:44: That’s still not quite right, though, is it? Something’s just not quite working back there. You feel slightly…bisected.
19:47: This messing around’s no good. You just look more conspicuous. Maybe what it needs is just one firm tug to sort things out.
19: 48: Maybe that’s done the trick.
19:50: Oh dear. Your vest’s riding up a bit now. Need to sort that out.
19:51: DAMN! DAMN! Realise that your attempts to take the problem in hand have spectacularly backfired, that a significant portion of the frills are now somehow, madly, ABOVE the waistband of your leggings and, thanks to the underperformance of your vest, are now on show to the entire gym, a slice of lower back clearly visible between multicoloured frill and baggy black lycra. Yank up leggings, pull vest down as far as it will go and turn red for reasons wholly unrelated to your (unimpressive) running speed.
19:52: Nearly fall off the treadmill by attempting to look in the mirror to establish who was using the shoulder press immediately behind you when ‘Frillgate’ occurred. Creepy old guy who once asked you to show him how to do a squat? Hunky gay guy? Unfeasibly athletic blonde girl who blow dries her hair wearing only her thong in the changing rooms? Fail to reach any definitive conclusion on this.
19:53: Maybe no-one actually witnessed the incident.
19:54: You’re just not that lucky, though.
19: 56: Realise vest is also inside-out. Decide this is insignificant in overall context.
19:57: Start ‘cool-down’ section of run. Accidentally catch eye of person on the next machine. Smile ruefully, as if to suggest that this kind of thing could happen to anyone.
20:03: Thank goodness. Running’s over with, at least. Walk, seemingly calmly, to rowing machine. Decide that this offers far less scope for public humiliation.
20:05: Where do you put your iPod, though? Wish you’d bought one of those fancy arm things.
20:06: Under the strap will be fine, won’t it?
20:16: Hmm, this is quite tiring. Maybe a couple more minutes.
20:19: Where’s it gone?
20:21: Spend what seems like an eternity fishing round in your shock absorber to locate the iPod, which has apparently made a bid for freedom. Finally manage to find and extract it, but in your enthusiam adopt a gesture not unlike a magician pulling a rabbit out of a hat, and accidentally send the iPod skimming across the room. Eventually locate it under the cross-trainer. Smile and shrug apologetically at no-one in particular.
20:22: Decide to cut your losses and go home.