Sexy and you know it all

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As you can tell I spend a lot of my spare time at the gym, reading about it or talking about it. One of my major issues at the gym (apart from the people that go!) is the personal trainers.

By personal trainers I do not mean all of them, under some catch all umbrella term, as some I know are very helpful and knowledgeable, but the ones at my gym seem to be from another planet. Planet Asshole. I really struggle with them and their attitudes.

They are all males at the gym and I have ended up having it out with one of the more cocky ones and his smart ass attitude to gym goers that they appear to me to be seen as a target “un-knowledgeable girls”. I am clearly seen as one of them as I am not toned (through choice and love of food) and I was the target on this occasion and unfortunately for him I was pumped up and ready for a ruck.

I have outlined the circumstances on this particular occasions for your reference! He asked me what I  was doing and when I said legs he asked what exercises I do for that – when I told him about the exercises he started shaking his head and patronising me like these PT’s seem to do.

Him – “Oh no, you don’t want to be doing that, those exercises are for bodybuilding, where did you get that from? That’s not right for you or for toning”

That got my back up… I was all HOLD UP!!! at this point. “Toning? You don’t know what my goal is! Bodybuilding is what I want to achieve!”

Him – “Well you won’t get lean that way – most women want to get lean and toned”

Me – “I’m not most women. I don’t understand how you can come to that assumption when you’ve never met or spoken to me before now. I’m more interested in increasing my BMR.”

Him – “Do you know really what BMR means?”

Me (dagger looks) – “Basal. Metabolic. Rate. Thank you. I want to increase my muscle mass, therefore increasing my BMR, leading me to be able to eat more. My goal is to be able to eat more food.”

Him – “Oh. Well you need to do more squats and less….”

At this point I walked away. I’m not 8, I’m not at school anymore, I’m not a naughty girl and I definitely don’t need to be belittled by anyone. Needless to say I’ve been ignored by him ever since but on the other hand none of them have tried to talk to me since.

Girl power!

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Do I want to stay faithful?

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I’ve been at my current gym for almost two years now and our relationship is very up and down – probably due to my moods and dependent on what and how much pre-workout I’ve had. We’ve had some good times, success stories and a lot of personal bests but there is also some ongoing bad habits which make me feel it’s time to move on as I just can’ get over them and it puts a strain on our relationship.

It’s a clean gym with shiny equipment and lots to choose from but I wish it was better maintained (the equipment) – they don’t lube up the weight/resistance machines so there’s often friction and this increases resistance and makes it bounce and the weight fall down slowly. When I’m already beast mode, I can feel my skin going green when this happens and can feel twinges of me going hulk smash on the equipment as I’m already pumped up on pre-workout. All I want to do it my rope attachment tricep extensions, FFS! To be fair, I’m not hench by any stretch of the imagination but that is a work in progress.

Another big issue in our relationship is the fact the gym appears to have a sufficient air conditioning system but the PT’s feel it is obviously a better idea to open the doors downstairs which is great if you can grab one of the 5 treadmills right in front of the open door but as a result makes me bake upstairs where there is no air supply. There I am, kicking some ass on the bike upstairs, burning guilty calories from the cheesey marmite toast I had – at the same time melting away from lack of air conditioning. All the little fans on each CV machine have been broken and as a result just flop down and blow air on the floor, this is a frustration within itself.

The other day, I actually gave up after 10 mins. In a huff I got off the machine and went home having done nothing but 10 mins cycling and still pumped from pre-workout I just sat at home, fidgeting and eating!

On the other hand, it’s a 24 hr gym with a huge free car park and huge equipment and weight area. It’s a good price at less than £20 pcm and as I can’t swim I’m glad I don’t have to pay for a pool I’ll never use.

I do hold a high degree of disgust for the other members I have to share with who don’t understand the concept of the sweat towel policy but I’m guessing that it a international dilemma and not limited as a hate campaign against me singularly but I struggle to cope and keep sane after having to experience the warmth and sweat still visible when I go to use a machine after someone else and the debate over whether to use my own towel to mop up their “leavings” or whether to use something else without making a smart assed remark as I walk past.

I checking out my options and testing out other before I move on to make sure I’m making to right decision. Sounds like it might be time to move on…sorry babe, I think it’s over.

Welcome to Reality

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I’ll keep this brief as it is quite personal to me, and still I feel an embarrassment to myself. Unfortunately, due to my nature I’m easily embarrassed and really quite critical of myself but this I feel is something I cannot be alone in feeling.

One evening I’d decided to make an effort in my appearance given I had (for once) been given the time! I de-haired myself, sorted out my hair and make up and put on my nice undies and shoes. I have a lovely wardrobe area off my bedroom which has full length mirrors and I thought I’d try and take some photos of myself as I can take as many as I want – I hate having my photo taken and even more so people taking photos of me.

I took photos at various angles thinking that some must be flattering enough to at least send to my long term fiance, he might even be surprised as this is so not me.

All I can say next is – OH MY GOD! I looked huge! I’m not huge, I know that and I can confirm that I do not do fad diets or anything silly either, I actually don’t really mind my size (only my distinct lack of boobs!) – I look pretty good in clothes. I was actually embarrassed and speechless by what was on my phone screen. Now I know why Page 3 models are so tiny – I would never show those photo’s to another living soul. I’ve kept them – not sure why –  and I look at them occasionally now and feel just as awful as I did that first time I looked at them again.

Safe to say these will firmly stay a secret with me for a long time! Am I alone in this experience – I hope not!