I was born in 1943 in the east end of London. By birth and by speech, I was a Cockney. It was a tough area and being part of a minority group made it even tougher. I was short and stocky and usually able to defend myself. My friend Mark was tall and skinny. He felt inadequate. One day, he suggested that we did weight training. We went to a gym in Bethnal Green. It was inhabited by trolls. In those days, say 1958, only crims and boxers went to such a place. You wouldn’t see a woman there. Certainly not one in shorts and boob tubes. No, not any women. The men were tough and unshaven. The weights were old and there were no gimmicky gadgets.

As schoolkids, we were tolerated. Then Mark decided to do an exercise where he lay on a bench and lowered a weight behind his head. The bar was too heavy. Instead of his arms bringing the weight back, the bar caused him to somersault backwards. There was a tremendous clatter and he lay spread-eagled on the floor. No one came to help him. Well, I did. And that was the end of gym.