Gym bunnies

I know I mentioned before that I have recently (well not so recently anymore now) joined a gym. I have embraced the little routine of going once a week (yes if I went more than that I would see results faster, but, meh!) and feeling great after. I use it mainly for working out the stress of a crappy day, or a bit of me time, but either way, it helps. One thing I have noticed are the numbers of girls that use the gym as a way to socialise. Erm ok. They rock up, hair in that messy bun thing that looks like they just threw up it (they didn’t) and the “natural” look. Ahem. They have more make up on them than I wear on a night out.

And then they stroll on the treadmill while having a chat with the person beside them. No. Just no. Very frustrating when they’re hogging a machine you want to use while they meander. When I’m at the gym I am a mess. I do not look good. I specifically go when himself is in work so he wont see the red-faced, sweaty mess that I become when I’m doing my thing. There needs to be some mystery! Ok, I am not the fittest person, but I try, I know my limits but I will try to push them. I’m not going to be running a marathon anytime soon…If you saw me, you would run away. I do NOT look good.

THAT is what the gym is meant to be. A gym. A gymnasium. A place for exercise.

Thus ending my rant.

‘Til next time……

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