Beating the bulge (well trying)

Like most girls my age, weight is always an issue or a permanent voice in the back of ones head. Since std 9 i've been trying my hardest to do what I can to tone and tighten..but its harder then you think. It's almost as though once a diet starts the only adverts on tv are about chocolates or ice-cream, and all you want to do is eat..eat EAT! Since first year spread (probably the most depressing thing that comes with starting varsity), and you try and reassure yourself thats its not soo bad until you see your parents for the first time and the expression on their faces says it all. Also sublte hints such as why dont you have the salad, you love salads or lets just order water for the table.. since when did i love salads and water for a meal... never! First year spread.. check! constant need to loose the booze bulge.. check.. motivation for gym/running... still working on it. Now that im in Cape Town, I wanted to make a change & due to my major lack of motivation I invested in a personal trainer.

Every December we go to Knysna, and there are about 5/6 families that have been going for over 10 years.. each year we arrive everyone looks the same despite a hair colour change or something subtle..however this year one of our members arrived looking buff and cut like he had just entered into a Mr. Abs competition.. this aswell as and ego bigger then his pecs will ever become. The admiration that he got from eveyone made me realise that this is my goal.. I want to come back in December and have everyone commenting on me and drooling over me, all those who used to view me as just one of the groups will be elbowing eachother out the way to get a lunge in.. but i'll be batting them away with extreme enjoyment.

To top off my insecurities of appearances, I am lucky enough to live with to beauties who can basically eat whatever and whenever they want and still come out looking ontop.. its great! So, now I have signed up with a trainer.. feeling a bit nervous I go for my first meeting with him. Of course he is this massive guy with biceps bulging so much that he probably cant bend his arm enough to hold his cellphone on his ear, let alone get into the right position to wipe his bum. He's a Shwartzenegger look a like.. minus about 3m in height, but he's awesome. 'What are your goals' he asks... 'Um to wow everyone who sees me in December, if people are worrying that I might have an eating disorder wont bother me either'. you know what they say nothing tastes as good as thin feels (still questioning that). Anyway we have established the goals and aims for my training programme and tomorrow the shit hits the fan. Not only am I seriously unfit, I am a smoker which adds to the struggle in being able to work out for longer than 30 min.

I have to admit that my first three sessions were not too bad and I was feeling pretty happy with myself, and im sure I can see a difference in my thighs.. maybe its just a mirage from the dehidration i've suffered. After the first week im feeling positive about training and week two comes along-Monday: 20 min warm up& I almost fainted.. then into the PIT. This is already daunting on its own with all those roided up beefcakes benchpressing so much they're about to pop an intestine or something. As if this is not bad enough I am doing squats and lunges and 1 min runs every 30sec and im DYING physically. I have to ask for a break as i'm seeing black dots in my eyes and the colour has drained from my face completely, breaks over and its no mercy for me. I am sweating so much that it looks like i've been training in the swimming pool... definately not going to find a boyfriend in the gym, and if I do well love is blind then. An hour goes by and training is finished.. thank god! Now this is what I call a work out session, my legs are so shakey that im walking down the stairs as though I have polio, legs so wide apart im practically sitting on the steps and a full dependancy on the banister.. it must be a hilarious sight. To be honest the feeling doesnt get better it only gets worse and today I feel as though someone has beaten my thighs with a wooden spoon and a hose pipe they're burning so badly... for all this pain, the results better be worth it.

Always the passenger, never the driver.

My day started off with very high hopes, I had things to do and accomplish and was very confident that things were going to go according to plan...however : For breakfast the only thing that I felt would satisfy me was a bowl of delicious Special K with ice cold milk. No Special K..shit! Ok second option,my moms musli (it would just have to do). My first mouthful of the musli had an odd musk flavour to it which didnt taste normal, as I took a closer look into the cereal I was greeted by a very cosy family of maggots, who seemed highly irritated that my pouring had distured their home of webs and cacoons (or whatever maggots live in).After having a small gag on the side plate, i decided that i would have to settle for coffee and a cigarette.

Next my nerves started to kick in as it dawned on me that in 2hrs I would be doing my drivers.... FOR THE 6TH TIME, on the same day as my 18 yr old sister. Never at the age of 21 did I think that I would still be trying to organise myself lifts to get around because I didn't have my drivers-C.r.i.n.g.e!!! By now my nerves are almost out of control and I remember my mom gave me a semi tranquilizer to take.. although she stressed I only take one, I took 4 just to be safe. Apparently chocolate also helps calm nerves, so this topped off with some rescue and im buzzing.However I'm still considering a shot of whiskey..? but decide against it.

12:30 pm comes and my instructer is at the gate, as I am about to get into the car i notice he has put these 'funky' (according to him) black and grey canvas like seat covers on. Unfortunately for him the grey area is right where one would sit and I can now clearly see which holes he sweats from and how much he sweats too..gross! Obviously after performing like a champ in the yard with just me and sweat bottoms it's time to hit the testing station. By now my sweat is adding to his and I can feel the sweat soaking into the chair.. this is not helping my situation at all. As I walk into the license department I am reminded why it is one of my top 5 places to be (please note the sarcasm),as one is always greeted by an extremely smiley and polite face behind the counter and the smell of well washed bodies-not. The lady who comes to collect my forms and photos is chewing her gum with her mouth so widely opened that I can easily see what she has had for lunch as well as the fillings in her back molars.She however is not nearly as bad a Talita.. the tester. Talita is explaining the procedure to me so quickly that I can't catch on and am too scared to ask her to repeat herself (thank god i've done this so many times I know the drill better than my own name), not to mention that her top is pulled so far down i'm practically motor boating her cleavage from across the table. Finally she tells me to go wait at the car for pre-trip inspection. Waiting for Talita..waiting..waiting,sweating in the over 30 degrees heat..still waiting..my hair has now started to resemble an oily black frying pan im sweating so much and FINALLY I see her casually strolling towards me under the biggest straw hat ever.. would she share with me-maybe? i'll try some sucking up later. To add to my luck, there is no time for sucking up to Talita, my test begins at 2:00 pm and by 2:05 I am on the phone to my mom in tears, "I have failed again".Clearly Talita didnt feel the need to go soft on me, thanks..... for nothing!

In case you were wondering, my sister did pass, on her first time 2hrs before me. Nothing more degrading than having to ask your younger sister to drive you around for the whole of December. You know what they say, "always a passenger, never a driver"