Hi! Thanks for taking the time to read my blog. I’m hoping you’ll be like minded ‘normal’ folk that LOVE the idea of being fit, healthy, and strive for the ‘perfect body’ that we all seek out on Pinterest or Instagram…. but your love of food, naughty treats and surviving life just happens takes over on occasion.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m generally a healthy sort. My stats?
Age: 31yrs old (at the time this blog started in January 2015 )
Height: 5ft 4.5″ (the half matters)
Approx Weight: 9st 7lbs (give or take – I have curves that can’t be helped)
Interests: going to the gym, dreaming of the perfect body, eating healthy… snacking, drinking and indulging in the aparent “bad foods”. Haha… bad foods *insert eye rolling here*.
There are days I find myself scrolling through fitness pictures for inspiration – to the husband I’m just creepily eyeballing peachy bums, sexy abs and lean legs of random women. He says ‘creepily’, but I’ve seen him taking an interest when it suits, “Oh hang on babe, lemme see that”. Even while I right this, there’s a chance I may be chomping delightfully on a piece of the mother-in-laws home made chocolate cake, but the thoughts there.
Yep, you can see where I’m going with this. I’d love to know how many fitness bloggers, writers, instagrammers, actually practise what they preach. How many are completely honest with their online life compared to their real life. That’s what I’d like to know. Well that’s what you’ll get here. Honesty and a sense of humour. The highs and the motivational moments I might find myself in – gym workouts, smoothie and meal ideas and inspirations I use, along with the “lows”. And by “lows” I mean the moments of pure sugar heaven. A complete honest account of indulging and guilt that comes with it. Not only that, but I will also bring you in on my ranting moments of life. Don’t worry, I keep it comical! Moaners can be SO dull!
Anyway, point is, sometimes I succeed, other times I fail. But most the time I’m in a constant battle between being fit and eating clean… whilst telling myself I only live once, one flapjack won’t kill me (ok, but a tub of the things will, so step away from the tub fatty!).