The last time I pulled on my workout leggings and put my trainer clad foot inside a gym was two years ago; I was recently single and living on a not so healthy diet of jacket potatoes (with an assortment of fillings) and wine and my only cardio was dancing until 3am. In bid to fit into a figure hugging bridesmaid dress I signed up to my local Pure Gym and spent a couple of nights a week pretending to be a gym buddy and getting sweaty all in the name of a dress. I also undertook a healthier diet (hello greens) and tried to stay off the vino and calorific cocktails in the run up, although that was probably more down to a lacking of funds than it was purposely giving them up.
I fitted into the dress (with the help of some industrial Bridget Jones pants) but following my victory my Direct Debit was cancelled and I lost all interest in going to the gym.
Until just lately.
I bit the bullet and signed up to CityGym in my hometown tonight and surprisingly it wasn’t because I “hate my body” or because I have visions of being a lithe limbed Taylor Swift or a bod like Bey. The reason I joined? I joined because ten too many takeaways and nights spent in front of the TV in relationship content equates to utter bliss (I mean, who doesn’t want to spend the night eating pizza in bed with a naked man with a beard and tattoos, right?) but it also means that even my super stretchiest of jeans that fit 3 months ago now don’t and I a) can’t afford to buy a new wardrobe and b) I don’t feel as confident in myself as I did 6 months ago. Hands up if you’ve ever fallen victim to the relationship podge?
Even at my very “thinnest” I was a size 16, in fact I think I came out of the womb that size and I do believe that my passionate relationship with food will never allow me to be a size 10. I like late night binges and all those bad foods that people frown up on too much to live on a diet of salad and nuts. For example, when asked during sign up at the gym if there was anything that prevents me doing physical exercise I answered “cheese”.
My train of thought is that when it comes to bodies, be it mine, yours or your mommas (or that lady who works in the chippy) is that it is theirs, and one of the most important things in life is that a person feels comfortable in their body and loves it, regardless of size.
We each know our own bodies and as much as people might scoff at the suggestion that I’ve put on a good few inches of Duck Spring Roll and Deep Crust Cheese Pizza weight on and the bearded one might say that I still look good in my undies, at the moment I’m a little more squidgy in certain areas than I would like to be and my Just Eat diet is doing my body, hair, skin and bank balance no favours. As such I’ve made the decision to give my health a bit of a kick and get myself back to the gym.
I also have a really nice dress I want to wear in Amsterdam at the end of the month but it doesn’t fit me any more even WITH industrial shapewear and shaping tights. Seeing as though setting myself a dress related goal worked so well last time, I thought that that was a ready made goal right there.
Wish me luck.