The Gym.

New Years, ugh!  Lucky it's nearly over. I reckon those resolutions have lost their novelty by now for most of you. The daily hours jog you promised yourself you'd do has turned into a quick stroll around the block and back home. I mean, who'd want to spend more than twenty minutes out in those freezing temperatures? It's bleedin' Baltic out there! And the healthy lunch that you'd get up every morning to prepare has become nothing more than an inconvenience, ten more minutes you could have spent lying in bed listening to Ian Dempsey shite on about how much he loves David Bowie before he plays "Heroes" for the trillionth time.  And that session in the gym you swore you'd commit to at least three times a week has dwindled down to your reluctant attendance of the odd step class, consisting of you standing at the back shuffling from one foot to the other while cursing the instructor for her amazing figure and boundless energy.  Ah yes, the gym. The one place in the world where I feel significantly fatter, uglier and dumber than everyone around me.  So here's my list of reasons for hating the gym. Feel free to add to it with a comment below!

Sweet Jesus.  God, help us all.

1. Not knowing how to use the equipment but being too intimidated by the muscled bound oafs who work there to ask for help. Seriously, why don't they get some normal looking people working at the gym? Someone who doesn't look like a steroidal Honey Monster after a body waxing session. 

2. If you exert yourself in any way you will end up looking like Waynetta Slob after a quick one down the alley way with some randomer. This is completely unavoidable.

3. The fact that the last statement is only unavoidable for you! Others will end an hours treadmill session looking refreshed and positively blooming. 

3. The mirrors stuck to the walls everywhere you look will make sure you are constantly reminded of the above facts.

4. Not knowing where to look. When you look in the mirror and watch yourself exercising you will feel like a complete tool/tit. This is especially true when completing squats, probably the most embarrassing exercise ever invented. However, if you chose not to look in the mirrors then where do you look? At the other people doing their exercises? And risk being thought of as a gawping idiot, verging on lewd stalker? Or maybe you could just look into space, look no where and end up smacking some lad in the head with your bar bell. Well done, Nutty.

Me and me husband before we head out for a jog

5. The constant feeling that others are looking at you, judging you and laughing at you. Even though you have no proof of this and it is clearly paranoia of epic proportions due to lack of self worth brought on by exposure to impossibly perfect bodies parading themselves about the place.  

6. Men standing around watching one another bench press. Yeah, they'll say they're spotting but we all know it's all about competition brought on by their feelings of inadequacy. Losers.

7. There is always one weirdo who strolls about the place, picking up this weight and that weight, standing just that bit too close and staring for just that second too long. This guy never actually seems to do any weights, exercises or machines and he is always at the gym. Always. Even when you get up at half seven in the morning in a desperate attempt to avoid him. He will be there.

Model doing a poo, I mean squat. Attractive, eh?

8. It ruins your whole week. If I go to the gym I always feel great after a session, so glad I pushed myself and went and did what I had to do.  But how long does that feeling last? Maybe an hour or two, until you realise you have to go to the gym again tomorrow. Until you remind yourself this isn't a one off thing. You have to keep going to the gym to maintain any kind of fitness level and/or slim figure. How depressing is that? I literally spend hours dreading the gym. It's there in the back of my mind the whole day. Contemplating going, contemplating just legging it home and getting into my pyjamas and watching "Tallifornia" repeats on TV 3. It drives me crazy. Takes any pleasure out of the day. This year, I reckon you should add up all the time you spend feeling good after going to the gym and then add up all the time you spend dreading going to the gym. Maybe after a glance at the results you'll do the same thing I did, not bother your arse going at all.

Cellulite me arse!

Rihanna's arse is the spit of mine.

I have cellulite.  It's horrible.  It's on my arse and my thighs and I hate it. Well, I hate it when I think about it but luckily my days of wearing bum skimming skirts and tiny hotpants are over so I don't have to think about it too much.  But then there's always the bikini or the swim suit, whichever's your fancy, both of them are pretty unforgiving for those of us with arses that would make Neil Armstrong feel homesick.  So I was looking at my derrier there today and decided I am going to try and do something about it.  I have done this before I might add, one of my many missions for perfection. It might involve a dedicated skincare routine or vowing to use strengthening polish on my nails every day for a month. I usually give up after two days. Said cosmetic product ends up tossed in the bathroom basket with every other transforming  face mask, protein enriched hair repair oil or snake venom wrinkle busting eye cream that THIS time I was REALLY going to finish. It's not that the products don't work, sure I never use them long enough to know.  I just get bored doing it, I suppose, or I completely forget, or I realise that if it does actually work that I am going to have to go through this bullshit routine for the rest of my life. And that's a huge commitment. If I actually went through with all the tiny little promises I make to myself I'd end up spending three hours getting ready every morning and another three in the evening. Would ya be bothered? Anyways, I digress, back to the cellulite.  I looked up a few cures, treatments that sort of thing for the oul' jaffa jelly.  It seems body brushing comes out on top. Much better than all the exfoliating scrubs, firming creams and micro massage knickers out there. It's also very cheap which is always good. And even better again I actually have a body brush (never used) to hand having bought one for the exact same reason about six or seven years ago.  Now don't worry, I'm not going to stick pictures of my cottage cheese thighs up here for all to see. I'd be too afraid me Dad would stumble upon this site and die of shame.  Instead I'll just give you updates and you'll have to take my word for it.  I am hoping that if I make this promise on the blog then I'll keep doing it.  It'll definitely help me remember and more than that, will motivate me to get the brush out and go to war on that cellulite once and for all.  So  here goes; I promise here on my blog, to all of about 3 witnesses, (but hopefully more to come) that I will body brush every day for the next thirty days. I will also publish the results of my body brushing on the blog and let you know if it really does the magic. Wish me luck!