My Gym Alter-ego and I

by - February 10, 2019

The Gym; a place of self-growth, determination and hard work? Or a place of sweaty pits, gym monkeys and Gym Shark nobheads.

So, here's the thing. When you're in the cinema and you're watching the likes of Selina Gomez coming from a spin class with a lovely duwey face, or when you're scrolling through instagram and Kendall Jenner has just posted a quick post-hot yoga snap and she looks like a sexy, steamy, sauna Goddess. It's really fucking hard to not create unrealistic expectations when it comes to the gym. My return to the gym had me thinking and gyms are definitely not as glamorous as I had imagined. My expectations vs. reality were polar opposites which felt similar to a slap in the face or maybe a punch to the tit, both very unpleasant.  I was forced to accept alot of home truths and turns out my gym alter-ego was most definitely not the duwey, sexy, Jane Fonda wannabe I had once thought. Turns out when I slip on a pair of gym leggings I am infact still a frumpy, sweaty, red faced women who is yet to rediscover her ankles.

Ladies, I present to you... Gym expectations Vs. Reality


Just like on the big screens I had kind of envisioned myself being this slender Instagram model type; graceful and beautiful with a perfectly curled pony tail that goes for miles. I don’t know why I thought the gym would turn me into Ariana Grande or why I thought it'd make my hair grow? Zero Logic. The last time someone called me slender was when I was 16 and as far as graceful goes, think more along the lines of Gemma Collins on Dancing on Ice.  Fierce, incredibly entertaining but Shit.


Did you know you could sweat behind your knee? Because you can and it is awful. Can I take a minute to discuss Boob sweat? Who the fuck knew your boobs sweat? I have always been very flat chested but since I doubled in size I can now successfully fill out a B Cup bra and I am not here for it. I want to go back to a world where Donald Trump was not the President, England was happy in Europe and Boob sweat was nothing but an old wives tale.


If you can smell it, so can I. It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single man in possession of a good fortune and a gym membership, can most definitely afford to purchase and utilise some antiperspirant. Gym’s are sweaty. I get it. We don’t need them to pump febreeze through the air con, no one is expecting bowls of potpourri next to the water fountains. Standard gym etiquette asks for basic hygiene.

In essence, I have learnt many things these past few weeks upon my return to the gym:
1.) I do not nor will I ever look like Ariana Grande.
2.) Sweating is not determined by genitalia. Vaginas sweat too!
3.) Women who wear their hair down to the gym are either superhuman or... no there is no other explanation for that.
 
4.) Gym's should create more job opportunities for Nightclub toilet attendants and put them in their  changing rooms "No Spray, No Lay", "Sweaty Pits, No Tits"

Can't wait to keep you all posted on my weight-loss miseries. Hopefully I get to see my ankles at some point next month. Only time will tell!


Until next time!

Lou xoxo





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1 comments

  1. Completely agree that girls who wear their long hair down to the gym are not properly human! That's always baffled me. I'm under no illusions that I look truly horrific at the gym, there's no rescuing it. I've always struggled to fill an A cup and honestly thought my tits could get no smaller... going to the gym proved me wrong. I may as well just wear vests these days �� But yet - I STILL get boob sweat! How?!
    Great post ��

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