Let's get sweaty.....

For me, dating usually occurs in the safe confines of a bar or restaurant, where alcohol is readily supplied and comfort is key. So when I was asked along to Fit2Date, a dating-meets-fitness class in Sydney’s CBD I was, well, scared.

I’m not the kind of girl to shy away from a bit of exercise – in fact, I’m a Spin class regular and running and I have recently become friends. But exercising and dating: that is definitely new territory for me.

I’m prone to falling over in heels after a few too many wines, so God knows what would happen if you armed me with tennis racket, a surfboard or, God forbid, a dart. More than likely it would end with some sort of embarrassment or my date taking me to hospital – not the best first impression.

But what the hell, I thought, dating is all about being outside your comfort zone, right? So I arrived, Lycra-clad, ready to get all hot and sweaty with strange men. Just a regular Tuesday night.

I hoped I could slip in quietly by arriving late, but Tim, our trainer, had other plans. “This is Sarah, she’s come all the way from England,” he shouted as around 14 other fitness freaks muffled hellos.

After proper introductions and a warm-up the hard work really began: finding a guy who I fancied. Oh, and exercising, of course. Luckily, Trainer Tim seemed to have it all figured out. He ordered us to team up in boy-girl pairs, as we all shuffled along looking at each other as though we were at school and the thought of pairing up with a boy scared the living daylights out of us.

The rest of the class disappeared in a blur of lunges, sprints and sack races; I was trying to catch my breath and flirt at the same time – not the prettiest sight. The truth was, I didn’t fancy any of the guys, but I think that was a blessing in disguise. If there had have been any guys I’d been attracted to, I can’t imagine the aches and pains after showing off my push-up prowess.

I ended the night with no numbers, or dates, or even crushes (well, apart from a tiny one on Trainer Tim!) but one guy did ask me if I'd like to go running with him sometime. And I wondered, in the world of fitness dating, is this the equivalent of being asked on a date?? Well, I liked to think so!

First published on: http://www.cosmopolitan.com.au/lets_get_sweaty.htm

First impressions.....

As I arrived in Sydney I beamed with excitement; I think I half expected Aussie surfer guys to be walking round the airport, with surfboards and washboard stomachs, waiting with a big plaque welcoming me with ‘Hi Sarah’.

You can imagine my dissapointment, then, when the first group of guys I met were English. Damn, I’d come over here to avoid them, not be surrounded by them. Plus, at 18, they were just a little bit too young for me. I’ve been there with toyboys and it didn’t exactly turn out pretty!

And as the first week passed and I bumped into Irish, American and all manner of men who definitely weren’t Australian, I became increasingly disappointed. Surely I could have met these guys down at my local pub in London.

That is until I bumped into Aussie Paul* in a club a couple of Saturdays ago. I’d been told that Australian men were quite shy and wouldn’t approach me, but Paul was either a rare breed or had just had one too many beers, because one minute I was with my girlfriends on the dance floor, the next he’d dragged me off to a quiet spot to chat. By chatting I obviously mean kissing**. But I wasn’t so sure about this guy: he was lovely, but after a few half-hearted texts my first Aussie encounter fell flat on its face.

So when another Aussie guy, Ben*, offered to buy me a drink at my new local I thought I should give him the benefit of the doubt. Yes, I probably should have listened to my flatmate when she told me he was a cocky twat***, but I really saw no reason not to say yes when he asked me out for dinner the following night...

The date didn’t start too well when he asked if he could bring a friend along. Um, really? In England, friends don’t usually tag along on dates! I’m not sure if it was my confused look or the “Err, NO!” which made him realise it was a bad idea.

And after a couple of drinks I wasn’t really getting his Australian sense of humour (or maybe you just weren’t that funny Ben - sorry!) With that and his love of the pokies (yep, while we were on the date) I wondered what I’d got myself into.

The last straw came when I dared to decline his next date invitation, because I really was too busy. He sulked like a 4 year-old! So have I just picked the wrong Aussie men so far, or are they all like this? Let’s hope not!

*All names have been changed
**Or pashing, as you Aussies call it
*** Or complete dickhead, as you Aussies call them

As published on http://www.cosmopolitan.com.au/first_impressionsblogdating.htm