It’s like half way through January now, and as you’d expect the gyms are raking in the cash from “new year, new me”-ers who are likely to spend a couple of weeks showing willing and then cave under the realisation that eating carbs and sitting on your arse is loads more fun than jogging halfheartedly on a treadmill and being judged by regular gym goers. I really don’t blame them. Continue reading “5 reasons to hate the gym”
We’ve all got that one annoying mate who decides when January comes around that a month off the sauce is somehow going to cleanse their souls and turn them into a health goddess. I get it, I really do. We all overdo it on the pigs in blankets over Christmas and come out the other side of December with slightly more padding than we intended to. We all chug 14 bottles of wine a day in the name of everything that’s festive. We all feel rotten as fuck after spending £3,529 on a G&T down the local NYE party and we most defo all feel the pain of the marathon wait for January pay day. But if you think that 30 days on the wagon – and on your high moral horse – is going to cleanse you of those xmas toxins you are fuckin barmy. Continue reading “fuck dry january”
So with a few totally minor and acceptable relapses (a rum+ginger beer and a glass or two of vino), I’ve almost reached the end of Dry January.
You might remember just how grotty I was feeling just after Christmas, following my December diet of chocolate, chocolate coins and chocolate cake washed down with any alcoholic beverage in sight. The good news is, I have changed my ways, and have actually been overheard declining offers of chocolatey snacks in favour of healthy salads and easy peel clementines. Continue reading “what i learned from two weeks at the gym”