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I accidentally clicked ‘Cancel’ on my direct debit to my monthly keep fit group. I accidentally clicked cancel after accidentally running away mid-session to make daisy chains because I just couldn’t bear running the circuit one more time. It’s hard you know, this keep fit and be skinny and toned and really perfect regime. Honestly. Running around poles in a field, leaping like a frog, crawling like a crab and running on all fours like a grizzly bear had to come to an end at some point. A year and a half later was my point. Which takes me to today. I ended up being one of those that loved telling people I work out real hard and go 68 times a week because I am so dedicated when in reality I started to dread putting on my waterproofs and doing press ups in the mud. Granted I lasted a year but I get bored, you know, I need to change things up once in a while. So this is what I have been filling in my time with to become a super hot piece of ass…

Let’s begin with my exercise habits over the past two weeks. I was contracted on an event up in the East Midlands and was away from home in a rather posh hotel room for two weeks. Straight away I stocked myself up with an unlimited supply of wine and made good use of the buffet breakfast by eating everything I physically could and sneaking a few pastries into a napkin for elevenses. A girl has to do it. When a girl has to do it there is always a few repercussions. Mine being the case of a significant amount of vino calories and free cake all day. I hadn’t been on a good exercise blast for a few weeks and one of the girls is a professional track runner. In short she’s really fucking fast. I used to run really well when I was younger, fastest in my school year and smashed the 100m sprint. What made me think fourteen years later after poisoning my body with cigarettes, alcohol and the odd class C drug that I could just pick up where I left off. I need someone with a more sensible mind than me to answer that. Unfortunately for me I wasn’t that sensible mind so I thought it would be cracking to go along and show the other athletes how talented I was on the track. Turned out my talents were best suited to laying on a beach with a cocktail checking out the topless men and their six-packs. We’re talking amazingly fast sprinters and middle distance runners here. Their jogs were faster than my sprints. The focus and dedication was way more than I could concentrate on (especially at the moment the muscly guys ran past, sweat dripping from their lick-able chests) and I ended up huffing and panting like a bulldog humping something it shouldn’t be. On the outside I was calm and composed. On the inside I felt like a bit of a wet fanny. Lesson learnt. Don’t play with the big dogs.

After being ever so slightly scarred at the track running and making sure my direct debit for my fitness group was definitely cancelled I decided to get thin the natural way. Admittedly I am only 3 days into this two week detox but I’ll enlighten you anyhow. It’s all about the herbs. The natural detoxification process of mixing together strange plants, seeds and unlikeable stingers like nettle leaves and letting them rinse your insides out and you poop out all toxins, leaving them screaming in the toilet bowl as they are flushed away forever. That’s the more glorified picture. I am not a herbal tea fan full stop and these teabags are quite honestly like drinking a mojito minus the alcohol. It’s like licking a garden hedge. So far though so good, I have had my bum on the toilet seat three times already and I feel like my inside passages have made way for a skinnier, healthier, wine free version of myself. I still have eleven more days to go of drinking this whilst holding my nose and having a glass of water nearby (very much like swallowing males ejaculate) but I have high hopes that I can lose the wobble, sit on my fat bum all day reading novels and try on clothes a size smaller knowing that soon I will fit in them without having to surrender those 68 hours a week of intense workouts. *wink wink*

For the next two weeks I shall gulp down the laxative enducing nettles in a pot and make sure I get my recommended dosage of man loving a minimum of three times a day. Fits and spurts, fads, all these are me when it comes to diets and exercise. I love something and give my all to it for a certain time and then I get bored. I need something new to get the blood flowing and to stop me being that person that tells everyone on social media and friends that I workout all the time when I am in actual fact sat on Twitter. It just makes me sound good and I feel less guilty about that fondant fancy I secretly devoured after lunch. My answer to this is I think we should all be assigned a personal trainer, hair and make-up artist complete with a full body airbrush and tit lift every morning before we leave the house. How life would be that little less stressful not worrying about being that hot piece of ass…

Copyright © 2014 The Bella Effect

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