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Hutt Chub

June 14th, 2010 by the_lifer

It’s harder to stay skinny in the Hutt. As in all suburbs everywhere, this is due to driving replacing walking. Kapiti Coast denizens are not so deeply afflicted because they are always going for long beach walks.

Now that her sister Winona is back, staying slim as she gets around Wellington on foot, Helena Hutt is feeling self-conscious. So she is conducting dawn raids on her own fat cells, getting up early every other day and determinedly tramping around for an hour, in all weathers short of a howling southerly. She is lucky. She can afford the hundreds of dollars of waterproof, warm gear that makes this tolerable, her dog is happy to pull her along, and she returns from the elements to a warm house.

Helena has also joined a community gym near her eccentric art school. To her surprise, the gym is pumping during the winter months. The sauna has a waiting list each day of people escaping cold council boxes for twenty minutes of concentrated dry warmth.

There’s a bunch of blokes hanging about, boys really, blustering, taking up the cross-trainers. Their manners are on the only-just-acceptable side of rowdy. But the more sedate gymgoers are not complaining. It beats them drinking or huffing to keep out the cold.

Some of them are rather comely. Helena tries not to think about that – goodness, her own sons aren’t much younger. It does give her extra impetus in Swiss Ball class.

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