Can't Say Strawberry

Oh Kev. How can I begin to describe Kev?

Kev is one of the fitness instructors at our gym and has quickly become mine and Gray’s favourite. In fact I think I might go as far as saying that Kev is my life. Oh how I look forward to Tuesdays so I can punch and kick in coordination with Kev’s electro-mix of music! Not only that, but Kev provides endless inspiration for moves to bust on the dancefloor.

Not to mention the people that Kev attracts to his classes – blue shorts boy, girl-who-fell-over-once-but-is-really-into-it and her pal that-bloke-who-thinks-he’s-Rocky, and the girl who I copy in front because I couldn’t see Kev from behind the pillar. So many characters, so little time.

And did I mention that Kev is a hero for a cause? At our gym, ‘muscle shirts’ (tanktops) for blokes are banned, but despite this, Kev would turn up without fail with his own muscle top, showing off his biceps and that. So, last week he announced that men are now allowed to wear them. I like to imagine that it took many weeks of campaigning from Kev, and that he wore all those muscle shirts in protest of the oppression that his guns were facing. You go Kev! Fight the man!

Every week, about quarter of an hour before the class ends, he makes us run around the hall AND HIGH FIVES EVERYONE. Oh Kev, you legend!