No pain no gain.

In the knackered old gym some years back I very often struggled to hold on to my personal rear flood gates. Some called me the doctor, some asked me to flush the toilet again. Uncomfortably embarrassing and hello anxiety. And I lifted various weights up and down. Another half hour in the gym and mostly, bye bye anxiety.

But that's how it can be. Day in day out. At the gym a friend would do that playing of the tiny violin action, if I moaned about some gut pain or other. But still, I lifted weights up and down. This way, and that way. Five or six days a week with approximately 30 to 50 flushes of the chain overall and the odd bucket of water to unblock the u-bend.

I loved that gym, a lot of good people ended up there. Each with their own story. With traumas and positives impacting their gym discipline.

In this day my prayers that I didn't pray for gifted me one sentence from that friend. He rubbed his stomach and grumbled in discomfort, “I've got the trots, I'm not using those toilets.”

I didn't use my tiny violin. I just looked and made a mental note.