I want to, I really, really want to run gushing with enthusiasm to my local gym…my heart full of desire for another push-up, my mind determined to make a million press-ups and my stomach burning and churning with the the thought of another crunch….but it’s just not happening…I aspire to be one of those women who have a myriad of exercise outfits, that showcase abs of steel and arms that ripple rather than shake. I hope to talk the lingo, understand the equipment and the benefits …..But that hasn’t happened and I have a feeling that it never will…it’s just not me….I only care about my clothing after the session…trainers or louboutins…lycra or j brands?... I have a one track mind when it comes to labels …. adidas and nike just don’t do it for me….I want someone (handsome preferably…) to set all the heavy duty machines for my workout and any in-between-when-I-have-caught-my-breath conversations I might have… well… body building chat just isn’t my thing…..However often I go to the gym there is always some reluctance, a reticence and a secret dread. I know what is ahead of me…I know the pain and torture that I must will myself to endure but I also know that it is necessary…because unlike those gorgeous French girls…no gym means no good for me….I run up the stairs, like a good French girl…I walk and walk and walk, like a good French girl does…but somehow the genetics are against me…I am not finding that I have the cute little derriere that I would like or that same one that I see bustling along the Parisian boulevards or swishing along the cobblestone pathways in the local village….It is sad but true…To avoid a derriere of Montmartre proportions, I have to exercise and do the gym thing…
You see I have tried the French way and it did me no favours. It might have worked if I had eaten like a French girl with controlled portions and limited carbohydrates…but I found that not so much fun. It wasn’t entirely my fault…France is a bit naughty….she lures you in with temptations that are impossible to resist…delicious wines and champagnes, succulent roast chickens and golden deep fried pommes frites, soft and delicate cheeses that melt in the mouth only to disappear on the hips, tartes, macarons and madeleines that are extra sublime when you can have more than one….because generosity is important…isn’t it? And bread….to say no to French bread is a cruel and nasty blow…and …well…almost rude..and I would never want to appear ungrateful in my adopted country…that would be too grim for words…
So you see the gym is the only way out for me…..even though deep down I sympathise 100% with the French girl’s philosophy and intellectually I agree that the gym is an entirely uncivilised way to maintain beauty …..But as today is Monday and Monday is gym day…I just felt the need to tell you…and to know….Do you find the gym as much of a challenge as me? xv
