It's the new ROFL:
Rolling On the Floor, Lifting.
Says my mate with a chuckle, as he continues to wrangle the grey leg machine. I never got the hang of those.
I remain on the floor, kettlebell in pistol position, anxiously claiming my space and trying not to get in the way of the serious and experienced gym-goers.
As I lunge up to the full standing position of the Turkish Get Up, I make eye contact with the man in the neighbouring room. A half-height window separates the stretch and weight areas, and I've popped up into sight like a meerkat but with a weight above my head - I'm sure he's thinking WTF.
However, I retain my balance, and get down, back to my place on the floor. I've made this commitment to myself, that for a hundred days I'll come to this space to lift and swing and press and, as B says, just roll around the floor.
No shame. I own this.