Queue shame = gym motivation

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That moment when you’re in the supermarket queue with your deliciously satisfying non-alcoholic beer, ‘Friday night is treat night’, large ham and mozzarella pizza (for one) and all the extra trimmings: salami, olives, cheese, mushrooms, etc. etc. because there’s just not quite enough lard on there and that MoFo ain’t gonna pimp itself, no siree; when you look at the basket of the person next to you and see three sad-looking tomatoes and a pitiful fruit salad, glance sideways at the enviably slim thighs clad in skinny jeans, nod admiringly to yourself and then look up to see that they are indeed…….. attached to a bloke.

When a gentleman has more will-power than you to sniff lettuce to stay slim, it’s time to haul your sorry THREE extra kilos ar*e to the gym for more than twenty minutes on the elliptical!!

#Newyearnewmeepicfail

Only time will tell…..

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…… but I’m beginning to think that alcohol is actually the glue that was holding this ol’ body together!!

It’s almost ten days into Dry January and my face is falling off in great big lumps of dry skin (little flakey patches actually), and I’m more than a little certain that that extra three kilos was gained in the last week since I bloody stopped drinking……..  It is not at all how I envisaged it.  My idea of emerging, butterfly-like, at the end of January fresh-faced and a little lither is being shot down in flames by 0% proof beer!!

I guess that the fact that there’s a high chance my cholestrol is coming down, liver fat is reducing, blood glucose levels are dropping and sleep and concentration are improving in the short term, is more than a little silver lining to that dark, ominous cloud of skin doom.  I could really benefit from a little perspective…

**sigh.  Brunch on Saturday at Marmalade without my favourite Bloody Mary of all time in the whole, wide world.  (I literally just felt my saliva glands twinge as I wrote that).

Wow! I’ve got an answer already

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and the answer is, it’s NOT possible……  I weighed myself and I have gained three kilos, all in my BACKSIDE!

Thus I am not a medical marvel worthy of being thoroughly probed and written about.

How I feel about the gym

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No, no, no, no, NO!  Why gym, WHYYYyyy???

I’m wondering if some science bod, like the lovely Professor Brian Cox or maybe even Professor Stephen Hawking can help to explain the following.  “How is it possible to weigh the same yet be wider in the ar*e area?”  Is it something like this?

How my ar*e got bigger

How my ar*e got bigger

Not. Happy.

Things I learnt in 2013

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  • Men have a propensity to lie (sometimes this is misguided niceness and preferential to ‘hurting’ someone with the truth, but most of the time it is not).
  • If you eat all the tortilla, chorizo, fuet, cheese, millionaire’s shortbread and pan con tomate you put on weight.
  • If you drink too much you get drunk (and put on weight).
  • We are all completely and utterly, 100% responsible for our own decisions.  We can claim to be swerved by outside influences, but at the end of the day, the bottom line is, we made the decision.  No-one climbed in our head and twiddled with knobs, for sure no-one twiddled with mine and I made some pretty dubious choices last year!  
  • If you don’t exercise you put on weight.
  • Anything is possible, it is only our own fears that stop us doing anything.
  • The World is a very small place, playing Six Degrees of Separation is fun.  I’m only two degrees away from Clint Eastwood!
  • Friends are for life.
  • Life is short.
  • Family rocks.
  • Approaching 50 sucks (largely because you still feel 20 12).
  • Being in your thirties, on the whole, does not.
  • Bending over forwards and trying to touch your head to your knees for the first time in 15 years is bloody painful (in private, audience of none).
  • Mum’s know everything and are always right.  FACT.
  • Justin Timberlake is a demi God.
  • If you eat all the tortilla, chorizo, fuet, cheese, millionaire’s shortbread and pan con tomate, if you don’t exercise and you drink vast quantities of beer, wine – red and white – cava, cocktails, gin and whiskey, you put on a LOT of weight
  • Not only is the World small, it is also smattered with idiots which means that you are never further than 100m away from one.  A bit like rats.  
  • Dancing is quite excellent.
  • My homemade millionaire’s shortbread is exquisite.  I just blew my own trumpet.  LOUDLY.
  • Argentine Tango is wonderful.
  • Christmas is great no matter what your age.  NO!  It is not just ‘for the kids’, I still get a lot of joy from giving and receiving presents, THANK. YOU. VERY. MUCH. (indignant huff).
  • Life would be arse-breakingly dull without music.
  • a good haircut is imperative.  It may take a few attempts and a close shave with Catalan fringe, but persevere.  It will be worth it.
  • The splits aren’t possible after a certain age and it is not impressive to do them in your cramped bedroom after some wine, to prove how flexible you think you still are (in private, audience of one).

Thank you 2013, and goodnight.

Reasons why I love my job #1

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Because sometimes you meet really, really cool people who you click with immediately and then spend most of every class laughing your ar*es off. (While imparting invaluable knowledge and wisdom-obviously.)

Today, I along with Señor U, invented ‘The Crappies’ awards, then allocated a couple to some deserving recipients.

Then, discovered they already exist and had our dreams dashed all in under seven minutes.

Life can be tough like that sometimes….