I want the gym bag

Image by Joanna Dubaj from Pixabay

Who joins the gym for a free bag? Seriously.

I’m actually asking.

Do you make your gym decision on who is offering the coolest tog bag?

This was me a week ago.

This is me now.

“So, if I come 16 times in 8 weeks, I get a free bag?”



I don’t even know what it looks like, but it’s incentive. It’s a small, yet achievable goal. I may not have lost much in terms of the saddle bags around my waist, but I’m hell bound on getting this bag.

In terms of the actual training…

Trainer: “You need to keep your elbows close to your body as you pull the weight toward you.”

Me trying hard, but not cracking it.

You see, I have a physical deformity that prevents elbow straight backward movement.


I have boobs.

I shove them mercilessly into two sports bars.

They flatten out, but they have to go somewhere.

Yup. Sideways.

They go sideways.

Like squashed balloons.

This means, that the elbows-in position requires me to go around the obstruction rather than through it.

So, I have to do a rather strange out-in elbow movement.

And then my shoe decided that 10 years of abuse was quite enough, thank you, and decided to peel away its layers like an onion.

A Nike that couldn’t just do it.

A Nike that just wanted to be left alone to die in peace in the depths of my shoe box.

I loved these.

I cheered myself up by buying a new pair. They’re snazzy, but they’re not pink leopard print snazzy like the old pair. They’re discrete and serious gym wear. I feel like a total fraud. Probably the same way I’d feel if I had to wear a pair of Louboutins.

But, I’ve got my new shoes on and a bag waiting with my name on it.