Bye Bye Bingo Wings

I was fed up of looking like a beached whale next to my other half so I recently took the plunge & joined my local gym. After much pleading on my behalf, I managed to twist my man’s toned arm & get him to sign up with me. I somehow convinced him that I’d be far more motivated to beat the bulge if I had someone super fit to run the treadmill with, & that the results of my flab reduction would not only be beneficial to me but him too!

So Mr Angie joined under the premise that I would go at least ONCE a week, otherwise he’d cancel our joint membership quicker than you can say RedBus Bingo. On the upside, his end of the bargain was that he’d go with me every time to support my battle of the bulge.

With determination stuffed tightly in my sports bra & a hunger to fulfill my end of the bargain, I’ve forced myself to go THREE times a week since joining. My fella on the other hand, accompanied me the first couple of times & then piled on the excuses as to why he couldn’t make it.

Pot, Kettle, Black springs to mind.

It’s alright though, as I’ve got a new buddy to help me along the way. They’re far more reliable, do what I want with little resistance & never ever MOAN. I highly recommend you befriend them – they’re called Power Plates.

Until next time….

Share this page