DeliaRene Professional

Hey.

Welcome to my blog. I document my screenwriting, my life, talk a lot about relationships & daily rants in 2017 my #YearOfLavish. 

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The Day I Went To The Gym & My Heart Bled

The Day I Went To The Gym & My Heart Bled

I fucking hate gym. Take the average regular smegular person that doesn't like gym & times my hate for it by a BILLION. I FUCKING HATE GYM (one for time for the person in the back). Now you can roll your eyes and make your own conclusions as to why it's the probably the reason I'm a thickems today but if you don't know me well enough by now and like I've said in my previous blog "My Name Ain't Robin But I Sure Am Thicke" I don't give a rat's ass what people assume about me when it comes to my weight so #KissMyAssSoWhat

Anyway back to my point and me fucking hating gym. When I used to work in a secondary school which gives you FREE access to a gym a betch still didn't go. I worked in various Secondary schools for over 5 years I can count on my one hand how many times I went to the gym, let alone went willingly...that's a myth. That's because why would I want to go? Firstly teachers went to this gym, I have to look at these people in their face every frigging day so you think I'm going to embarrass myself in front of them with my unfit self as they dance around and make the shit look easy? NOPE! Then to make it worse frigging students use the gym after school, I built up a reputation in the schools I worked in, the kids liked and also feared me and actually listened I was not trying to become gossip around school that they saw me collapse on the floor after using one apparatus. 

Furthermore, the gym is to static for someone like me. Why would I want to be on a treadmill running like Forrest Gump and be going fucking nowhere? Why would I be riding on a bike trying to bring E.T home and I'm still in the same place? Yes I know that the gym equipment is still exercise and all that jazz (rolls my eyes) but that shit just ain't for me.

Now give me a dance class, socaerobics or a kickboxing session and a betch might contemplate it because then I'm moving around, I get to buss a bumflick as I sweat it might not be easier but it's damn sure more fun! In one of my previous schools, we had a guy create exercises that involves us running around and moving in our school hall and I frigging loved it! (Well I love it now that I'm no longer doing it!) Fast forward to 2 years ago I was going to a Socaerobics class led by my cousin which was pain to the beat of soca music but again I went because deep down in the pits of my denial I enjoyed the workout especially to soca music! 

But then the Socaerobics classes stopped and the terrible snacking habits came back with a vengeance! I'm not trying to be one of those girls that become obsessed with calories and what I can/can't eat. I want to enjoy food I'm allowed to. I've seen friends and family try out a plethora of diets, shakes, cereals, no-carbs,no salt, no flavour, no food diets and...no. I refuse. Point blank. It doesn't help that I have the world smallest kitchen, I kid you not I can't even spin in my mothertrucking kitchen, and 2 people being in there at the same time is a tight squeeze therefore I can't have no big apparatus in there for why? It's going to take up space! 

I won't lie and say that I have the best diet...but I sure don't have the worst. Again being a thickems people must think I live, eat and shit fast food literally but I'm not a fan of fast food. My issue is snacking and no-one loves Custard Cream biscuits then Delia-René. Shut up you heard me. I was set up for failure since my childhood, my Grandad and my aunty both worked in McVities I was the Willy Wonka of biscuits I swear down! Bad enough I can't enjoy many things thanks to my lactose intolerance because my stomach doesn't respect my life so why should I give up the one thing that gives me joy? 

So I've been happily avoiding the hellhole aka gym for the longest time but recently..a betch has started to feel sluggish. I don't know whether it's because I'm 30 or because I can no longer avoid that annoying voice in my head telling me that I need to exercise more often but I knew it was time for me to fix up and start leading more of an active lifestyle. I've been watching my edges aka Scotty Unfamous on her weightloss movement called #SvelteHeaux2017 in the #YearOfLavish she is openly documenting her weightloss journey and I love how open she is being about it and I've seen both her confidence and her heaux levels ascend ever since she has begun this journey so of course I'm proud of my little hussy hobbit! 



So on Thursday 18th May 2017 at 4:30pm, Delia-René stepped into a gym for the first time in a century. Yes I'm being dramatic. I knew that I could not possibly be accountable for myself. For a second, OK a whole morning I even told myself that if I stepped my big toe into a gym then technically I had "gone to the gym" and I could walk my big batty out. But a betch got herself "Lucifer" aka my own personal trainer who was expecting me. Shit.

So I slowly got myself dressed for the gym and after speaking to my edges the night before I told her that I was not going to be like those other skinny and gym betches that went looking cute in gym wear/leggings and matching trainers. I'm a #Renégade bun the rules. I went looking as unsexy as can be. I wore an oversized t-shirt, H&M black jogging bottoms and my Burgundy Reebok classics. Now that I'm practically bald I don't have to worry about a headscarf. Woohoo! (FYI I clean saw a woman in my gym take her WIG off before in the changing room, my mouth almost hit the floor in shock). So I came out and Lucifer is waiting with a huge smile on his face reassuring me that as its my first day it will be a warmup mostly for observation as we had a consultation the day before which included me stepping on death aka the scales to see how much I weighed and this fucking contraption that showed me my body fat percentage (let's just say a betch wasn't exactly thrilled with her number but they weren't as bad as I thought!

We began on the bike because I told him fuck a treadmill I hate that apparatus the most, he said I wouldn't be doing it today and I had a mini-dance in my head as I felt like it was a victory. So when he told me that I was doing 5 minutes on the bike just to get my heart pumping I felt like I had won the lottery, I had a full blown conversation with him so a betch was delusional thinking "maybe I'm not as unfit as I thought I was go Dee!" so I skipped off the bike and we went upstairs to an open space and thats when my cardiac arrest really began. 

There's a reason I call him Lucifer, he had me doing squats, starjumps and the worst was lunges. Who made lunges up? Who? They need to be punched in the fucking windpipe. I'm used to doing forward lunges but the backwards? Had a betch unstable! I felt embarrassed! How are my thighs burning like hot coal because I'm doing lunges? Me? With these thunder thighs? I hate showing weakness. Not to mention after the first few rounds of doing the Fuckery 4 of squats, starjumps and these lunges I had sweated a river. 

So now I'm hot, out of breath and my thighs are burning and I only have less than 30 seconds to try not to cry and breathe again like I'm Toni Braxton and Lucifer brings out an aerobic stepper. A betch was confused. Lucifer proceeds to tell me to step up and down with each leading leg 10 times on each side as fast as I can but I'm still trying to stop my heart from ripping through my chest! But I couldn't say no just yet...we was too early in the session to do that. Bare in mind, my legs are a myth after doing the Fuckery 4 combo he made me do, so a betch doesn't want to another exercise where I have to use my legs. Kmt. But I did because he told me to and I was standing in front of a mirror so the shame was right in my face for me to see. THEN Lucifer decides to add another step which made the shit high as fuck for me to step onto. I had to look at him and ask "are you sure this is for me?". But again, I cussed him in my mind and a betch did it! Yayy! I cried when I saw that he wasn't putting the stepper away he bought over the duffel bag of death and told me I had to hold this shit and do it again, this caused the cut on my heart. Every step I took I felt like my thigh bone was breaking, I wanted to cry but couldn't because I'm a bad man with a foul mouth and I refuse to show weakness but when I was done I screamed out in pain yes I did because my heart told me to. 

He answered my prayers and put the aerobic stepper away as I was bent over trying to fill my lungs with as much air as possible without dribbling on myself. Then I see dumbbells..this fucking Lucifer had me squatting AGAIN with dumbbells of a different weight one at a time. Like he didn't know that I was feeling to hit him over the head with it. But anything was better than the steps to heaven on the aerobic stepper so I bit my bottom lip and did it. But now I had made the cut in my heart wider and I was feeling lightheaded because my brain didn't understand what the fuck I was putting myself through. 

We moved to another side of the gym and I was desperately trying to find a clock because it must have been an hour by now...but it wasn't. This fucking Lucifer gets me 2 not one, DOS dumbbells of 10kg and tells me I have to walk with them across the gym like their shopping bags and come back. What? Why? Kmft. So I take the 10Kg dumbbells and do as he asks as I walk down the gym and refuse to look any fellow human being in the face because I just want it to be over. When we finally get back to our station, Lucifer decides that I find 10kg dumbbells too easy. BITCH WHERE

He returns with 20kg dumbbells and I was fucking livid. I groaned to even pick them up and as I did part of my soul flew out of my mouth. Lucifer already knew that through our consultation THE DAY BEFORE that my upper body strength was non-existent. So now I'm dragging myself to hell with 20kg dumbbells and got to walk at a quickened pace back and forth like my name is Aaliyah. Fuck a you Lucifer. Fuck all of you. He's encouraging me and repeatedly saying that "I'm doing it" but I was doing it..badly. He explains that it's my first day and it will never feel as bad as it did today but he's Lucifer I know he's lying to me. I was walking diagonal, my legs felt like total diarrhoea as I grip these death balls in my hand. Now the cut in my heart is an open wound and my hands are bright red. Lucifer tells me "let this be a lesson for you to buy gym gloves"...Lucifer don't try me right now. I drop the death balls with so much anger it must have left a dent in the floor but I didn't give a fuck at that point I was glad that it was over. 

At this point I'm ready to run out the gym but my legs are working against me at this moment. My legs aren't even talking to me so I couldn't leave if I wanted to. Lucifer makes me go planks...betch why am I doing planks and my whole body is shaking like I'm having an epileptic fit? He's telling me to squeeze my glutes which makes me shake even more I was fucking done. Every plank just made it worse and all the while Lucifer is SITTING there just looking at me and counting down until I can collapse on the floor in exhaustion. 

Then came the Pièces de résistance this flipping fanny finger had me BACK ON THE BIKE. But instead of it being the 5 minute conversation that we had at the beginning he upped the levels and the resistance of the bike. I can't even put into words what I went through...

This was the straw that broke a big betches back. My heart bled, I was sure that blood was coming out of my mouth at that point. During the 20 minutes of hell, I went through every fucking emotion that I could possibly think of. I was ready to tap out but my legs were working against me and beside my feet were strapped into the bike so I couldn't fucking get them out if I wanted to. So now I'm in my sunken place soaking wet with sweat, my heart is bleeding, I'm paralysed and the reality of how unfit I am has KO'd me several times. Oh by the way this gym is nowhere near my house it's by my workplace which means I have to get public transport we we weeee all the way home like the little piggy I am. 

Fuck a duck. Let's just say right now I'm in pain, my legs feel like jelly and I mean the cheap non-brand jelly kind. Why was I walking like I was drunk? Why was my legs hurting me to go down the escalators? Why did my legs give way several times that a betch was scared that I would fall? All because of Lucifer, my unfit rass and the gym. Right now I'm in purgatory and I'm still upset that I put myself through that today. I don't even want to think about Monday because a betch has to go back as I signed myself up for 6 weeks of this torture with Lucifer 4 times a week. Yes you read correctly. It's safe to say once it's done I won't be talking to him again because he made my heart bled innit even if it is worth it respect my life. 

SO those on my mailing list I will be giving you a weekly update of how it's going and some before/after pictures and anything that I learn along the way. If you don't see a blog from me next week it's because I'm at the front of the line to speak to St.Peter at the pearly gates. 

If you like this blog click the heart below...it will heal the bleeding heart I have right now

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