US AND CANADA REFUNDS NOW AVAILABLE!
14 September 2017
There are some gals out there with serious willpower, they enjoy snacking on dried goji berries, say no to the Doughnut Time delivery, and regularly opt for a hot yoga class on a Friday night over boozing.
They also take sadistic pleasure in 6am morning wake-up calls involving horrible things like burpees and endless sprint sessions. These women also generally bang on about meditation, positive affirmations and the power of positive thinking.
They are all extremely ‘zen’ and have figures TO DIE FOR that around bikini season the rest of us mere mortals (who enjoy sleep-ins, fried food and copious amounts of alcohol) look at for inspiration.
For 7 months a year we simply look at these figures with a slight air of annoyance (AKA jealousy), but for the other 5 we suddenly realise, !FU*K!, our pale and slightly wobbling bods are going to be NEXT to these freaks of nature goddesses in a matter of weeks!
Right, time to join a gym as the old one was cancelled due to having better things to do… like enjoying the US Bachelor while shovelling fistfuls of Doritos down our gobs.
And so begins (yet again) The Seven Stages Of A Gym Membership that we repeat time and time again…
That moment after a holiday, x-mas or even just as you shed your winter layers; when you finally notice the excess of dimples splashed across your backside and the ‘cute’ roll of flab over your waistband your mum lovingly prodded at.
Then you can’t stop noticing things like the cute, summery jumpsuit that was once so loose and ‘boho’ is now stretched across your width like a circus tent. The legs so sneakily encased in black and VERY flattering stockings all winter are suddenly looking more plump than pin-tastic. Not very good.
That’s it. Enough jiggle and more jumping jacks. Butt is about to get whipped into shape. Gym memberships are signed, you start a spreadsheet to plan out your workouts and download MyFitnessPal.
You feel virtuous AF when you obnoxiously decline that slice of birthday cake with everyone staring at you with wonder and confusion given you generally request a slab. You’ll probably want some shiny new workout threads to make you feel the ‘part’ so check out our Showpo activewear here. #shamelessplug
You live and dream fitness. You’re a virtuous abundance of health, just oozing wellbeing. In fact, you’re annoying the hell out of your friends now that you spend the conversations banging on about chlorophyll rather than the usual topic of conversation; getting boozed and peen purveying.
You’re so committed that not only are you visiting the gym most afternoons after work, but you’re even getting up earlier to walk to work AND you’re doing a Saturday morning PUMP class! Who wudda thought!
We’ve all been here. Our willpower is at an all-time low and we have less motivation to go to the gym than cleaning the loo. This is the stage that you welcome period pains for the excuse not to go, you start working later and organising catch ups with people you actually couldn’t care less about. All in the desperate attempt to AVOID THE GYM.
This stage is where our gym visits putter down to once, max twice, a week and we spend the session reading a magazine while peddling uselessly on the old person bike (you know, the reclining one). OR you flap around in the pool like a retired seal only to be shouted at by a Speedo-clad Fabio furiously freestyling down the pool to ‘get into a slower lane’. Jerk.
This stage is generally just a meagre excuse for exercise and really just a cute nod towards the $30+ being deposited into the gyms cheeky little bank balance weekly before you race on home to compete in FIFA with accompanying cheesy garlic bread and jelly shots. (Now if only we applied the same enthusiasm to a year-long exercise routine eh?!)
This is the moment when we realise we haven’t visited the gym since the last season of the Kardashians aired… Yet the bastards still insolently sneak our hard earned $$ (well…$$ anyway) month after month as we continue to sit on our ass.
So we dutifully make our way to the gym (head hanging in shame) and once the reason for our visit is explained to the chirpy 17yo receptionist, her expression changes and you are taken to ‘the room’. It is here that an immensely fit and gorgeous male/female (depending on your guessed sexual preference) will sit you down while giving you a slightly condescending ‘concerned’ interrogation.
‘Why would you choose NOT to live a healthy lifestyle and continue working towards a healthier you with us’? ‘I don’t know White Goodman, is it true that steroids shrink your dick?’
And so as we meekly schlep out of the gym for the last time, the horrible obesity pattern sets in again and soon enough the whole bloody process will be set in motion yet again.
So long quest for a pert ass, you have been overshadowed by yet another round of Oreo eating and general lack of interest in looking in the mirror too closely.
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