Tag Archives: gym

Sexy Rumble – yeah it’s a thing

Last week a coach from my gym asked me where I have been.

Thanks for calling me out Coach.

Little does he know, I’ve been busy sexy rumbling at my burlesque dance class.

Granted the class is only once a week. But he doesn’t need to know that.

The class isn’t so much dancing as it is to pose like a 1950s pinup and look sexy.

I can’t hold a sexy pose for half a second before I start giggling.

But the instructor said to create a stage name and character. This will help me with posing since my character is too cool to giggle at herself.

So I came up with the name Margot Fatale.

I chose Margot because it is a girly name. My real name is Rikki, and most people call me Rik, so it’s fun going by something not only girly but also French.

Fatale because I’m a big fan of the Film Noir era. I wrote an entire thesis about the Femme Fatale characters and the power they have over their male counterparts. These films portray the simplicity of men due to their willingness to commit crimes all because they were after the nookie.

Let’s try and bring that word back people. I think we owe to Fred Durst.

At the time, these characters were looked at as evil and negative. But I think there is still something we can learn from them: they are confident, unapologetic, and desirable.

As someone who has a lot of self-doubt and apologizes for everything, these are traits I could learn.

And they are traits Margot already embodies.

I catch myself in front of the mirror and liking what I see. But once I go on the scale, I’m suddenly disappointed in my body and the way I look.

Instead of going to the gym on Tuesday nights and trying to lose those pounds I’ve gained, I go to a dance class where I am forced to pose and be sexy.

At the end of the hour class, I feel more attractive than I do after an hour at the gym.

As I look around the classroom, I see a dozen other sexy, attractive, and desirable women. These women don’t have six packs, or butts with three different types of glutes.

They are women with confidence, and body types not featured on an Instagram page or a health magazine.

They are genuinely and uniquely beautiful women.

So the next time a coach at the gym calls me out for not showing up, I’ll walk my little cat walk, give him three pinup poses, and walk away with confidence.

Little will he know, his ass just got sexy rumbled, and that’s something you won’t learn at the gym.

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The go-to workout

It’s been awhile since I’ve mentioned a workout.

Remember when this use to be a fitness blog?

Well here’s one for you below!
Finally right?!

Whenever I’m in a rush, this is my go-to HIIT workout. HIIT stands for “high intensity interval training”. At least I think that’s what it stands for. I don’t care enough to check sources. This is why I decided journalism shouldn’t be my thing and I will write pointless silly blog posts instead.

Good compromise.

It’s a treadmill HIIT workout.

I usually avoid treadmills, but this one is only 10 minutes so I force myself to suck up 10 minutes of sucking.

Start at an incline of 1.5.
Walk for two minutes.
Jog for two minutes.
Run for one minute.

Go back to a walking pace, but this time at incline 3.5.
Walk for two minutes.
Jog for two minutes.
Run for one minute.

Voila!!
Workout done.
You burned some fat.
Got a good sweat on.
Breathing hard.
And glistening with accomplishment.

Kudos to you.

Afterwards it’s really up to you what you do. I recommend stretching.
Although I never do.
I also recommend squats. Which I only do if there aren’t many boys around the 50 pound bar.

But the beauty of this HIIT workout is it’s quick and challenging. And if you’re like me, you’ll see immediate results once your done.

At least you’ll feel as if you see immediate results once your done.

I know – girl brain.

‘Til next time friends!

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My demise-a yoga pant story

Since when did buying workout pants become more difficult than finding a flattering bathing suite?

I blame this on the yoga pant fad. I was perfectly happy wearing my comfortable, swooshy, baggy, sweat pants back when I was 15. They were part of my cheerleading uniform with my name and bulldog embroidered on the top. (GO DOGS!)

Do swooshy pants even exist anymore?

Do people born in the 90s even know what the hell I’m talking about?

Because I got a new job, I had to start a new routine. I was going to get rid of my 24 Hour Fitness membership until I realized there was one in the same building as my new profession. Waking up and going to the gym in the morning would allow me to avoid traffic without having to sacrifice sleep.

My first morning at the new gym I chose to do the stair climber. This 24 Hour Fitness has several of these machines that all happen to reside in front of a mirror. This means while I am on the climber the reflection in the mirror is of my back.

At least this is what I thought.

This gym is small and the ceiling is next to my head while I climb. I don’t know if you noticed, but most ceilings have lights in them. As I’m climbing on the stair climber that resides in front of a mirror next to the ceiling with lights, I look in the mirror that is behind me and see a white ass staring at me.

With low ceilings, and fluorescent lights made out x-ray vision, it was no match for cheap yoga pant material to hide my white ass.

I was in a difficult position. I had to choose to continue to work out and pretend as if my ass isn’t as white as it is, or admit defeat and stop working out and hide in shame?

I continued to do my workout. White ass and all.

That afternoon I added “Buy new yoga pants” to my to-do list. I went against all the advice from fellow yoga pant wearers and went to Target instead of Old Navy because I’m lazy and it is the closest store to my house. While walking up and down the aisles of potential yoga pants, I hand tested all the pairs of interest. This isn’t as sexy of a test as it sounds; I simply placed my palm in the pants and stretched to see if I could see my skin.

Every pair of yoga pants. Every single pair. Every fucking pair man! I could see my skin.

I bought shorts.

So the next day I was in the gym wearing a pair of shorts I opted to simply buy and not try on. The shorts fit perfectly around my hips, but were slightly too tight around the thighs. If I did any form of jumping, the shorts became panties. 

On top of inappropriately short shorts, the x-ray vision fluorescent lights had an impeccable capability of not only showing my white ass in yoga pants, but also emphasizing my cellulite. 

Gyms need to adopt stripper lighting.

Needless to say, I was back at the store and this time took the advice of fellow yoga pant wearers and went with a few pairs from Old Navy. They are a little thicker, but I still don’t have the courage to look behind me into the mirror while on the stair climber. Instead, I try and get the one stair climber in front of the storage door.

This is what I have I learned from this experience:

1. Fluorescent lighting is the devil and clearly invented by a man.

2. I have a new found appreciation for how my body looks in a bikini.

3. Out of all the terrible styles we have brought back from the 90s, why isn’t swooshy pants one of them?

Til next time friends!

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Change up the good ole’ gym routine

Because I have been bored with the gym, today I decided to be a bit more creative with my workout and look up ‘how to burlesque dance’. 

This is a bit of a gamble with Google, as you can never be too sure what type of video may pop up. But to my surprise, all were acceptable PG viewing.

The first video I clicked on gave three simple moves inspired by the movie ‘Burlesque’ (see the connection?!). Click here to view the three minute video.

The ladies teaching the moves were peppy. I didn’t feel as if they were trying to intimadate me with their sexiness, but instead invite me to join their sexiness. Their easy to-do moves boosted my confidence and gave me the motivation to try another video.

The next instructional I chose began with a girl in the middle of a mirrored studio dancing to generic porn music. It was unclear if I was supposed to follow her or wait for instructions on how to do the moves.

About a minute (too long) into the video she finally narrates the routine. Her first instruction was “Turn your hips left and your shoulders right”.

What does that even mean?!

 I can’t tell you what I did, but it sure as hell wasn’t what “girl in the middle of the mirrored studio dancing to generic porn music” was doing.

So I opted to just move my hips and keep the shoulders parked while maintaing a sexy look on my face.

 It is then when I start to feel silly.

Mind you, dancing porn-music girl is wearing shorts and a sports bra, and I’m in my gray Army sweatpants and my Bocce ball team t-shirt.

I do not recommend wearing frumpy clothes while trying to look (or feel) sexy. Let’s just say I’m happy I was in the privacy of my own home while attempting these moves in this video.

The moves weren’t necessarily difficult, but I somehow over thought what I was supposed to be doing. Suddenly my shoulders don’t know how to move because my hips are moving? I can walk, run, do the twist, but I can’t move my shoulders left when my hips are to the right? 

I blame it on the porn-music girl: she did not invite me to join her sexiness. 

After the hip movement, I then was instructed to raise my hand above my shoulder. Raise my hand above my shoulder in a sexy motion.

I don’t know how many of you have raised your hand above your shoulder and maintained sex appeal, but doing this while wearing baggy sweatpants (and a t-shirt that says “let’s roll”) makes it incredibly difficult to raise your hand above your shoulder in a sexy manner. The entire time I’m doing these moves, I’m looking in the mirror, and can only see the growing disappointment in my own face. 

Then comes time for a hair flip. The most basic move of them all. I recommend not even trying if you already feel ridiculous at this point, because the strain in my face when flipping my hair up was probably the most discouraging part of the entire routine.

I managed to not only bruise my ego within the first three minutes of the video, but also give myself whiplash. 

 

So that’s a post.

Til next time friends!

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I am determined to look good in Yoga pants

The big perk of avoiding the gym after the new year, and working out at home, is not having to worry about the inevitable camel toe. 

I literally have gone to the gym twice in two weeks. For those of you quick with math: yes; that’s an average of once per week.

24 Hour Fitness is already a packed gym, especially the one near my hometown. And if I opt to go to the one near my work, then I risk being surrounded by a lot of guys with spiky hair. I’m not saying spiky hair is a bad thing. I’m just saying it’s a bit douchebaggy.

My new plan for the new year is to find workouts online and do them at home. I can then save the whopping 25 dollars a month I spend on the gym. This can now go to my tattoo fund I’ve been trying to work on for the past five years. (My new years resolution should probably be related to managing money better.)

Below is a screenshot of a workout my cousin posted on facebook:

Image

 

Being the half-ass achiever that I am, I of course did this the minimum amount of times required. 

It still took me 45 minutes.

I don’t have a step, so I opted to do 30 sit-ups with a 10 pound medicine ball in place of the 30 step ups. I also replaced the burpees with my beloved bomb-diver push ups (check out my prior post for technique). If you really want to add danger to this workout, I recommend having a seven-pound house cat with you in the room trying to attack you when lying on the floor or in push up position. 

After the first set, I took the duration of the song “Inside Out” by Eve 6 to stretch. This is a good strategy to avoid injury, as well as, the insanity you risk for committing to such a routine.

If you are a beginner, I would recommend cutting the reps in half, if not to a quarter. According to my Sergeant in physical therapy school, I have thunder thighs, so a workout like this should be easy for someone like me. Which it wasn’t, and my thunder thighs feel more like a kittens meow. 

They’re weak. Yeah I agree, that was a terrible attempt at an analogy. 

If you have any recommended at-home workouts, please let me know. I need to continue to save up for at least a tattoo cover up. That I will explain later.

Until next time friends!

 

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