On a crisp, decidedly lovely autumn evening, GoodGym Barnet assembled as usual at the Phoenix Cinema, a place that’s rapidly becoming our own version of the Heart of Gold. There, we welcomed a brand-new member, Tom. Now, Tom had been orbiting the idea of joining GoodGym for years (which is quite a long time in the GoodGym galaxy). A seasoned marathoner, Tom has decided to explore the shorter but still wondrous distances of 5km and 10km. Naturally, we welcomed him aboard with open arms.

After gathering in the foyer— we stepped outside to do a warm-up. This involved a brief "introduction to ourselves" via the classic name and number routine. (And no, it’s not a prison roll call, though it has a certain futuristic formality to it.) There was also a brief foray into holiday reminiscing: tales of journeys to exotic lands like Turkey, Crete, Cornwall, Sicily, Belgium, and Denmark. Just your average list of places you'd pop off to when you're not saving the local community.

In no particular order, our heroic team of runners included:

Peter Rachel George Paul Tom Kubilay

give them a heroic shout out. click on the red link.

Our quest for the evening: a scenic dash down the High Street, past the station, chasing the gloriously glowing red and orange sunset towards our destination—Northway Community Gardens in Hampstead Garden Suburb. Here, the great guardian of the gardens, Brian, awaited.

Brian, by the way, is somewhat of a warrior. His sworn nemesis? Bureaucracy. And oh, how he battles it, defending the beauty of the gardens from the forces of inefficiency. Armed with his pruning shears and an unyielding passion for fighting the good fight, he welcomed us to the task at hand: litter picking, sweeping, and the ever-satisfying pruning.

The most heroic task, however, came in the form of litter fishing from the stream. Armed with litter pickers and the precarious balance of tightrope walkers, we reached over the banks to retrieve the offending debris. It was daring work—soggy, slightly treacherous, and mildly reminiscent of a low-budget action sequence, but we prevailed.

Once we'd tamed the litter and pruned the greenery into submission, we secured the garden shed (because all great quests involve a shed of some sort) and turned our weary feet back toward the Phoenix. The run back, now under cover of night, was peaceful and introspective. Some of us, brimming with energy, opted for bonus sprints around the quiet streets. Tom and Peter, in particular, blitzed through the sprints like the fleet-footed heroes they are.

Finally, we gathered back at our base—the Phoenix—for a well-earned warm-down. There, discounted beverages awaited, and we chatted about our adventure over drinks, basking in the glow of a job well done.

Thanks for coming and doing some good! And remember, don’t panic—we’ll be back next week for more heroics.

Spent 15 minutes making observations for the citizens science survey on part of the River Soar in Leicester. A lovely peaceful task helping The Big River Watch.

Steph Ducat did his survey on the Greenwich Peninsula near the O2 and facing Canary Wharf

Tracey surveyed the river Derwent and also the river Heulyn with Gwyn, where they saw waterboatmen. He also went to the Seiont.

I did an observation and submitted the survey this morning, I went to Camden Town and reported on Regent's Canal. Photo attached.

The app was super easy to use and made the entire experience very easy to go through and also quite engaging.

Gosia

A few GoodGym members came online together to do yoga

yoga talk

Check out this study that highlights the connection between mind and body.

https://thehealthsciencesacademy.org/health-tips/strengthen-your-muscles-by-thought-alone/

The connection between mental training and yoga can be seen in how yoga emphasizes mindfulness and intentional muscle engagement. In yoga, visualizing movements and focusing on muscle activation, even in static poses, may lead to physical benefits similar to the mental training studies. The mental focus in yoga helps create a "mind-muscle connection," potentially enhancing strength, flexibility, and muscle control, as seen in research where mental exercises alone improved muscle strength. Yoga’s meditative aspect reinforces this connection, blending physical and mental conditioning.

tba

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.

from Jacqui.

Sally and I did our litterpick around the Moco museum. Modern, contemporary and digital art inside, but outside plenty of discarded Whisky bottles and cigarette packets to fill our bags with! 🚮

did mine at lunchtime today. Thanks again for listing this Paul Brown

Last weekend’s heavy rain will have led to high flows along the River Ravensbourne which in turn washes down litter from higher up stream; it was certainly evident in the tight flood plain in Brookmill Park. A full black bag’s worth was collected, much of it done under the watchful eye of one of the herons (just visible in the photo).

from Paul Salman

One sultry afternoon, when the sun blazed with the intensity of a toddler mid-tantrum, I decided that a stroll along Dollis Brook would be the perfect antidote. Of course, this wasn’t just any walk; it was a GoodGym litter-pick walk with my faithful companion, Gus, who I suspect secretly believed that he was not so much a dog as an honorary park ranger.

The Brook, in its charmingly modest way, was behaving itself quite well that day, displaying only the merest suggestion of rubbish in the usual suspects—benches and bushes, which seem to attract discarded snack wrappers like magnets attract, well, anything metallic. I was armed with my litter picker, a device that is best described as a T. rex arm on a stick, and I had the slightly smug satisfaction that comes with being prepared to do good. Gus, for his part, maintained his vigilant sniffing duties, which mostly involved scrutinizing the places where less civic-minded dogs had left their mark.

As I navigated the meandering path, I noticed a bright orange council van sidling up to one of the bins, the way a cat might stalk an unsuspecting mouse. Inside, a council worker—decked out in what appeared to be the official uniform of high-visibility gear and an air of mild resignation—was dutifully emptying the bins. I nodded approvingly at this sign of municipal upkeep, my litter-picker swooping down to snag an errant crisp packet that had made a bid for freedom in the breeze.

Then, to my mild surprise, the council worker headed directly towards me. For a brief, irrational moment, I wondered if there was some obscure bylaw against unsanctioned litter picking. But no—he beamed at me like I was some sort of civic hero. “Thank you for your litter picking,” he said, with all the warmth of someone who truly means it, as though I had single-handedly solved the borough’s rubbish problem. “Would you like some council bags?”

Naturally, I graciously accepted, trying to convey through my expression that yes, I was exactly the sort of person who not only wanted council bags but also knew exactly what to do with them. It was the sort of small victory that adds a surprising amount of satisfaction to a day.

As I continued on my walk, council bag in tow, something remarkable happened. People—a surprising number of them—began to acknowledge my efforts. “Thank you for what you’re doing!” they’d call out, as though I were a one-person anti-litter brigade. It was immensely gratifying, though slightly puzzling. I mean, all I was doing was picking up rubbish. It wasn’t as though I was rescuing kittens from trees or single-handedly solving the climate crisis.

With my bag increasingly heavier and my spirits proportionately lighter, I made my way towards a nearby bin where I left my satisfyingly full sack of collected litter, neatly tied like a Christmas gift for the sanitation department. I felt an odd sense of accomplishment as though I had performed some small but significant service for the community.

Not one to let an opportunity pass, I even took advantage of the local exercise machines along the way, which is essentially gym equipment re-imagined by someone who has never actually been to a gym. I gave them a go, feeling thoroughly virtuous and a bit like a child on a playground, which, to be honest, was no bad thing.

By the end of the walk, Gus and I were both suitably entertained and I, at least, felt quietly heroic in that way one does after making even a modest contribution to the public good. I imagined that the council worker would drive by later, spot the neatly tied bag, and think to himself, “Ah, the work of a true professional.”

As for Gus, he was far more interested in finding the next promising scent, but I like to think that, in his own way, he was as pleased with our good deed as I was. It was a good walk, a good litter pick, and, as a result, a thoroughly satisfying day.