In the annals of Good Gym history, last night’s gathering will likely stand out as one of those delightfully peculiar events where the unexpected becomes the norm. It was a Group Run, you see, except for the small matter that we didn’t actually run as a group. But, as with all things in life, it’s the little surprises that keep us on our toes—metaphorically speaking, of course.

The evening began with a plan: meet at the park, do some good, get a run in. Simple enough, you’d think. But as the day unfolded, a collective decision was made: Why run when you can meet directly at the destination? Perhaps it was the distance to the park, perhaps it was the lure of a more leisurely approach to our community efforts. Whatever the reason, the running shoes stayed curiously clean for most of us.

However, not everyone succumbed to this unorthodox notion of a non-run. Enter Ashley and Rupesh, our heroes of the evening, who took it upon themselves to uphold the sacred tradition of the Group Run. With a spirit that could warm the coldest of hearts, they laced up, hit the pavement, and ran from their homes to meet us at the park. Their effort was nothing short of commendable, the kind of commitment that deserves a standing ovation—if not a medal.

The rest of us, on the other hand, chose a path of less resistance, assembling at the park like a slightly underwhelming flash mob. And what a lovely park it was! As we gathered, the air was filled with the cheerful chatter of comrades who had collectively decided that tonight, the run could take a backseat to the task at hand.

The evening’s mission was accomplished with all the usual Good Gym gusto, albeit without the cardio component we typically associate with these events. litter pickers. in hand, we tackled the task with the same enthusiasm we usually reserve for a good sprint. The work was done in record time, perhaps motivated by the thought of the comforting, stationary journey home.

As we wrapped up, there was a shared sense of achievement—though whether it was from the good deeds or the successful evasion of a run, it was hard to say. We parted ways, some walking, some catching a ride, and Ashley and Rupesh, well, they ran. Again. True legends of the night.

So there you have it: a Group Run where we mostly didn’t, a task completed with smiles all around, and a reminder that even when plans go awry, the spirit of Good Gym remains gloriously intact. And, in the end, isn’t that what it’s all about?

and also a big shout out to Ashley on her first goodGym event.

The Chronicles of Cherry Tree Wood: A Heroic Tale of Weeds, Willpower, and Wonder

It was one of those rare, golden evenings that London occasionally produces just to make you feel guilty for all the times you've cursed the weather. The sky was a painter’s dream—blue with delicate strokes of white clouds, the kind that makes you think, "Perhaps, I should go for a run tonight." And so, this week's intrepid band of merry adventurers, otherwise known as the GoodGym crew, set off from the Phoenix Cinema on a downhill jaunt to Cherry Tree Wood, armed with determination, a vague sense of direction, and an enthusiastic but ultimately unhelpful pair of dogs.

The task at hand was noble: to rescue an overgrown orchard from the clutches of villainous weeds, a mission so vital that it would make any gardener weep with pride. The orchard, planted in 2020, was at the mercy of these pernicious plants, and its very survival—and future fruit-bearing potential—depended on our intervention. Leading this horticultural rescue operation was Roger, the indefatigable hero of Cherry Tree Wood, a man whose dedication to the local greenspaces is matched only by his ability to wield loppers with the precision of a brain surgeon.

Roger greeted us with the tools of our trade: rakes, loppers, and enough enthusiasm to power a small village. The team assembled—Philip, Ashley, Rupesh, Paul, and Kirsten—set to work like a well-oiled machine, or perhaps more accurately, a somewhat creaky, slightly rusty, but ultimately effective piece of gardening equipment. Ruslan, offering moral support, hovered on the periphery, contemplating whether the joys of weed-pulling were enough to tempt him into full participation. The dogs, meanwhile, contributed precisely nothing, apart from looking adorably confused and occasionally distracting curious passersby who no doubt wondered why a group of adults had chosen to spend a perfectly good evening doing battle with grass and weeds.

Note to self: next time, bring insect repellent or prepare to donate another pint of blood to the local wildlife. Despite the mosquitoes’ best efforts, we soldiered on, fueled by a potent mix of civic duty and the promise of a 10% discount at the Phoenix Cinema afterward.

As the weeds flew and the grass was tamed, a few locals stopped by to offer their thanks, which was both heartwarming and somewhat embarrassing, as we fumbled to explain that we were part of this wonderful thing called GoodGym. It’s a gym, but not in the sense that you’ll find rows of treadmills and the unmistakable scent of protein powder. No, this is the outdoors gym, where the world is your workout and your good deeds are the reps. “Dump the indoor gym,” I told them, perhaps a bit too eagerly. “Get outside and do some good!” They nodded politely, which I took as a sign that they were thoroughly convinced.

With our mission accomplished, and the orchard now freed from its weedy shackles, we took a moment to bask in our achievement, or at least catch our breath. There was even time for a bit of yoga on the main lawn, a gentle reminder that flexibility isn’t just important for weeding but also for the mental gymnastics required to justify coming out in the first place.

Finally, we made our way back to the Phoenix Cinema, where the promise of refreshment awaited. The 10% discount felt like a hard-won trophy, a small but appreciated token of thanks for our efforts. We raised our glasses—or perhaps more accurately, our discounted beverages—to Roger, the hero of Cherry Tree Wood, and to the GoodGym team, who once again proved that there’s no better way to spend an evening than making the world just a little bit better, one weed at a time.