I have a personal trainer. That’s right a little man who tells me what to do and what I am doing wrong, and I do a lot wrong. I know it is an expense but I am getting married in 5 weeks if I can’t spend money on my body now then when? Maybe if I wanted to be a stripper but I would only be a stripper in a high class joint and they don’t allow girls with stretch marks so that rules me out anyway.
So Bruce puts me through my paces twice a week for the next three weeks. I had my first session today and it was exhausting. Bruce my PT (or Personal Trainer) made me skip and to add to the embarrassment made me do it in front of a mirror. And I don’t think any sports bra could contain the mighty wave of movement of my boobs. My armpits are no longer talking to me and it’s sore to type, walk, eat and breathe.
To get fit for the wedding I am exercising seven days a week. I will outline my plan below. Do you care? Probably not but here it is anyway
Monday
One hour personal training
One-hour power walks with hand weights
Tuesday
One hour in the gym doing weights
Wednesday
Dance Aerobics (see below)
Thursday
One hour personal training
Friday
One hour in the gym doing weights
Saturday
2-hour power walk
Massage (I am an athlete now I have to take care of myself)
Sunday
40 minute run
Two words to describe the above. Hard Core.
I am not outlining this so you will congratulate me. I am just showing you what lengths I will go to have toned arms for the wedding. I am obsessed like a body builder minus the gold bikini and litres of fake tan.
And Jamie said today don’t loose too much weight I like it when you are curvaceous (translation he likes my boobs)
My favourite is dance aerobics on Wednesday nights. And the funny thing I always thought I was a good dancer, I thought if only I could sing I could easily be the next Britney Spears (I know I am 28 but I’ve been told that I look a lot younger, one drunk man once told me I look 21 and I’m clinging to it). But it turns out I am the Ginger spice of the class. I have no natural rhythm, can’t follow directions and probably most crucially can’t tell my left from my right.
So I swing my arms around and just memorise what direction everyone is going in and move that way. I seem to get through it.
This week I thought I had made a massive improvement so I came home and showed Jamie my routine, when I had finished (well done the bits I could remember with some freestylin’ in between) he had a look on his face that could only be described as horror. I wouldn’t be surprised if he cancelled the wedding.
Xxxx
Ps I woke up with 4 zits this morning after having good skin for ages. I blame the wedding and therefore J-me for asking him to marry me.
Also an update on the eyebrow situation, they are still under performing.
