So. The gym, then.
I’ve begun going to the gym and, determining that motivation to reach targets is key to my success, I’ve got myself a shiny new instructor. He is Rainier Wolfcastle from the Simpsons.
It was my own damn mistake letting them know when I signed up that I wanted ‘motivation’ and ‘someone who won’t take any guff’
Oops. THAT is the Fitness equivalent of touching a hot stove. You should know better and you suffer for your idiocy. Do you ever suffer!

My Eyes! The goggles do nothing!
Rainier will, apparently, be *sculpting* my abs and bum through a combination of strength building exercises. Apparently you can sculpt cookie dough now
I kid, I’m not out of shape really, no ugly duckling, but I want to firm up and get healthy again (note: And I’ve a good fitness cause too, details to follow!)
My first session I had to list all the awful habits I have… which in the harsh light of day sound *bad*. Every drink you drink, breakfast you skip or donut you devour sound 1,000,000x worse when you are confessing them to someone so…scary.
Went through my goals, and I resisted the urge to say ‘Let’s cut the bull, make my butt look like Beyonce’s!’ and instead listed off the usual ‘Feel better, more energy….’ We ALL have to say that is our goal in the gym, but really we want to bounce quarters off our buns. Don’t judge!
We proceeded to the gym area itself, where I…
- Got slogans shouted at me,
- Almost cried,
- Had my triceps, lats and abs mocked.
- Almost fell down the stairs in exhaustion
- This was after half an hour.
- Me ——->
That is why the title of this post seemed apt, Beauty’s Punishment. Beauty’s Punishment actually refers to one of the poorly written erotic stories Anne Rice did in the 80′s (well before she went Assistant Jesus on everyone).
Sure the relationship between Sadomasochistic tendencies and the gym/beauty is well explored, and certainly the kind of muscle soreness I’ve got tonight I’d equate to a solid caning! But to be honest I just like the turn of phrase.
There is a french proverb, Il faut souffrir pour etre belle, which translates in english to One Must Suffer to Be Beautiful. We pluck, wax, scrub, exfoliate, depilate, lunge, push up, crunch, squat, wax, and treadmill ourselves in its name, and then lets not forget all the bad tasting health food we eat (I don’t care what they say, Not One of those protein powders tastes like chocolate)… All for beauty, whatsoever we each define that as.
I guess going one step further and actually having someone shout at me is not a big leap in terms of kink!
So there might be hope of me learning to love my punishment in the gym and becoming an obliging treadmill slave yet…. Ohh Thighmaster, I’ve been a lazy lazy girl!!! teehee!
PS
Regardless how we define physical beauty, no amount will ever mask an ugly heart
Cliche I know xxx Kisses



