‘The moment I realised I need to join the gym.’

I joined a gym today.

Me. The girl who hasn’t run for AN ENTIRE EFFING YEAR joined a gym. A real one. With weights and a reception desk and sweaty boys who have big neck muscles and everything.

traps image

Big neck muscles = nope.

Why did I join a gym, you ask?

Because, well, uni exams are nearly over and I’ve spent the last month eating Pizza Shapes in bed.

Aforementioned Shapes diet has meant that I’m basically a human marshmellow right now. I’m so marshmellow-y that when I get naked for the shower I avoid looking in the mirror. I stop, drop and roll past it like a Soft-And-Doughy-But-Surprisingly-Agile-Ninja.

Then I spend the next five minutes in the shower doing this:

A) Tensing my tummy ‘muscles’ in an effort to convince myself that everything is FINE and I have definitely NOT gained weight. Not at all. No, Sir, I haven’t. I’m not tensing. This is my natural stomach. Promise.

B) Shampooing scalp.

C) Sliding my hand back and forth across the area under my jaw and wondering how many chins I can acquire before I do something about it (answer: many).

D) Conditioning hair.

E) Grabbing my boobs and feeling torn between wanting to keep boobs and wanting to not look like the Michelin Man anymore. Tricky decision. Very tricky.

F) Sobbing about the sad reality that I can’t have both abs and boobs, it’s gotta be one or the other. Screw you, cruel, cruel world.


And then I hop out of the shower and make a run for it so I can put clothes back on.

Obviously, my fitness level isn’t spectacular at the mo’ either. If I had to classify it, I’d say it’s Senior Citizen level. Like, I’m too weak to open bottles of Pepsi Max, and I get tired when I climb a staircase. And I don’t mean a big staircase, either. Oh no, son. It can be your run-of-the-mill staircase, and I will still walk away from it panting like I’ve just climbed Everest. I struggle to breathe. See black dots everywhere. Speak in Hebrew for a few minutes. Call mum and tell her to prepare my eulogy. The works.

That’s not the only thing, either.

Now, when I put foundation on my face I CAN FEEL MY ARM FAT JIGGLE. That’s right, my arm fat jiggles back and forth like a custard flan when I put on my makeup. How can this be my life at 21?!


My biceps RN… just in case you needed a visual.

But none of that compared to the PENULTIMATE marshmellow moment I experienced yesterday. The mother of all moments. What happened yesterday, you ask?

My jeans.

Popped open.

At my.


Ugh. UGH. Ughhhhhhhhhhhh. Agh. Eynnnn. Ushdkg.

My button and fly burst open with spectacular force… kinda like a champagne bottle being popped (sexy, right?). And it was 100%, without a shadow of doubt, the most mortifying experience of my life. But I can tell you this, mate, it was exactly what I needed to kick my lazy ass into action and get a gym membership.

So get a gym membership I did. About 5 hours ago, actually.

It wasn’t a straightforward process (I didn’t realise how many gyms are total shit). I organised two ‘appointments’ today that I ended up bailing on after reading horrifying reviews like this:

gym review

Excuse me?

I already have multiple voicemails from desperado gym staff wanting to reschedule. This is definitely the most desirable I’ve felt in my entire life.

Then, SUCCESS! I stumbled across reviews for a gym that was clean and seemingly hair-free! (Apparently, hair-free gyms exist. Great news, I know.)

So after 15 minutes of chatting to a really lovely man named Jay about my ‘fitness goals’ and ‘what I want to get out of the gym’ (um, abs and a toned butt, pls Mr. Jay) I handed over my MasterCard details and – BOOM – gym membership attained. Hideous head shot taken on webcam. Life savings (and soul) signed away forevermore.

Let’s all ignore the fact that this is the third gym I’ve joined in the space of 14 months. BECAUSE YOU GUYS, THAT’S A TOTALLY MINOR DETAIL THAT IS NOT IMPORTANT WHATSOEVER.

Let’s all believe that I am now a wellness warrior and that health is my lifestyle and that I will do however many bicep curls I need to freakin’ do until my arms no longer resemble gelatinous desserts.

Also, I bought like four really cute workout outfits today. You know, the ones where your sports bra totally matches your runners? Those. I got four of them. So if that alone doesn’t make this health kick worthwhile then I don’t know what does.

Lesson for today: I am health. Health is I. CrossFit 4 eva. #LegDay #Gains #JustDoIt #GymJunkie