The naked truth Monday, Aug 31 2009

It is a truth universally acknowledged that everyone’s got wobbly bits. But when your 26, living, albeit temporarily, at your grand-mother’s, and your thesis has been a work-in-progress for so long that the professor supervising you took and died*, the least you can do for your self-esteem is to look good naked.

I’m meeting with my trainer today for the first time. She is doing me a personalised training program, and we’ll be going through that today. I can’t tell you how excited I am about that. I’ve nearly driven BF crazy with all my talk about that. I even bought a new gym bag. It’s pretty. Not like flowers-and-glitter pretty, a very stylish Björn Borg black small sports bag. Just the right size for gym gear, towel and some make-up.

But, and here’s the kicker: I’m not really one of those who consider it a good use of time to sweat your gut out for a few hours in the gym. I much prefer things like pilates. Tennis is okay, too, I should have picked that up again. But I haven’t played since I was a kid, and BF soundly refuses to teach me. According to him looking cute in the little outfits is not an excuse enough to pick up a sport. Excuse me? My own BF doesn’t want to see me in a snappy little skirt?? And yet the Sergio Rossi lace thigh-high boots were a hit? Inconsistent, much, honey?

See, the problem is not so much the size I wear (which is small). It’s that I’m not in that good of a shape physically. And that I have wobbly bits. I need to minimise the wobbly bits.

And with the help of my lovely new personal trainer, I’ll get right on it today! I’m so going to die…

* Too early for those kinds of jokes?

Leave a Response »

 

Early bird gets the worm Friday, Apr 3 2009

That’s what they say, anyways. If you ask me, I’m more inclined to think that it’s also the early worm that gets eaten, but no, you never ask me, do you? You should, really.

No no, it’s few minutes past 6AM, and I’ve been up for about 20 minutes now. And in my desperate attempt to stay awake I’ve re-loaned few books from the school library (conveniently done online, of course!), I’ve paid my cell phone bill, replied to Chimmy, checked the BCF and my email, caught up on Grant Miller Media (loved the piece on same-sex marriages being legalised in Sweden, btw!)…

Second cup of coffee on the way.

I hate mornings, everyone knows that. They also know that I’m not really a people-person before I’ve had my caffeine fix. And I hate getting up. The actual process of getting up, out of the bed, annoys me to no end. It’s so comfortable there, warm and soft and cocooned. The outside world is cold and harsh and one has to do things there. I much prefer staying under my blanket, thank you!

BF has perfected the “wake up ii”-routine. To see the brilliancy of his method, let me start by explaining how my early morning wake-ups usually go.

About 30 minutes before I actually have to get up, the first alarm sounds off. The snooze button has an 8-minute wait. There’s also one other alarm clock set to go off around that period (well, approximately, as it’s a bit of a gamble, you never know exactly when it goes. It doesn’t really go off when you set it to. But it’s cute!). In addition to that, there’s several reminders on my phone with varying intervals. The phone, together with the Random Clock are kept on a self away from my bed, so that I need to get off the bed to turn them off.

Eventually I do get up, after hitting the snooze for half and hour or so. I stumble, shivering (aren’t you always cold when you get up? why is that??) into the kitchen, where, if I’ve been smart, I have coffee ready, as my maker has a timer. Alternatively I wait, hand on coffee pot handle, for my first cup. After I get my first cup of steaming hot coffee, I get on the computer and pretend to do something (like, you know, play Spider Solitaire and call it ‘being productive’) until the caffeine has woken up my brain enough for me to go get dressed.

Now, the BF-way of doing this: When the alarm goes off, he gets up and goes make coffee, leaving me to bed. I usually don’t even notice this. He brings me a cup of coffee, only because he’s evil he puts it on a shelf so close that I can smell it, yet too far to reach without getting out of the bed. After I’ve had the first cup in bed, I’m more fit to make it to the kitchen where he’s making toast and reading the online papers and just being his regular ray of frigging sunshine. The plan is brilliant. It works. It’s also very very evil.

My goddaughter and her Teddy Bear had my favourite method by far, though. They sneaked up to me, shouted out “there’s coffee!”, the Teddy (yes, the Teddy, don’t ask) thrust a bagel in my face: “and bagels!” What can I say, I’m a sucker for bagels. Of course, “there’s coffee. And bagels!” became our new catch phrase after that. *laughs*

I don’t have any bagels.

One Response »

 

Taking stock… Sunday, Mar 8 2009

I’m drinking BonAqua, trying not to die while attempting to go take a shower… Yes, you guessed it, I stopped by at the gym. I decided to go to one of the, oh what are they? classes? No no, erm… instructed work-outs? Yeah, that’ll do. Anyways, I went to one of those, one targeting lower body, and I think I’ll just roll up on the floor and die. Or no, that’s too much work. I can’t move from the chair I’m sitting in.

I have to say, I don’t really have any body issues. I look good. And I sure am getting enough attention from the opposite sex, I don’t look ridiculous in tight trousers, and I can pull of small tops and minis (though never at the same time). So this is all more about getting into better shape, getting more energy and maybe a bit firmer. Not buff, not loose weight, but to be more fit. You know? It’s about how I feel, not about how I look.

So what I learned today? I have fairly okay leg muscles. They didn’t die until after the class. And my butt is awesome! However, I have absolutely, completely and utterly useless abs. Seriously. All I managed to do while doing the ab workout was to get my neck sore. I hate abs.

I hate working out. Except pilates. That’s nice.

I should go take that shower before I die.

2 Responses »