Last night my boyfriend had a hockey AGM which meant he was out all evening and I was left to my own devices. He thought I was going to the gym. I actually watched tv and ate biscuits. YAAAAS.

Today, however, I regretted being a lazy little rat, and felt pretty terrible (health wise, I don’t really understand the concept of ‘food guilt’) from the sugar and needed a hard gym sesh to get me back on track. I also needed to claw back some workouts to get my tallies back looking healthy after taking a rest day far earlier in my schedule than I’d planned.

Tonight we got to the gym and had a massive barney. Basically, when we work out together, my boyfriend and I do 3 sets each of the same exercise (so – me, him, me, him, me, him) and then we move on to the next one. This means I plan my weights as heavy, heavier, heaviest as my 3 sets progress. SOMETIMES, his Lordship decides we’re doing 4 or 5 sets of an exercise, but keeps it in his head and doesn’t tell me until I’ve finished my heaviest set and can barely move. I then get in the huff about it – not about having to do more sets, just about him repeatedly changing the plan without telling me despite me asking him to – he tells me to go home, and then I march off in a strop.

[I need to get this out there early doors – the best thing about me and my boyfriend is that we’re genuinely the best of friends. Even when we’re fucking sick of the sight of each other, and are ready to rip the other’s face off with our bare hands, we still absolutely adore each other. Our worst argument in the history of our relationship (I’m talking screaming, crying, throwing things..) was resolved in about 20 minutes after a quick chat. We generally can only keep an argument or the silent treatment going until one of us falters and bursts out laughing at the absurdity of it all.]

ANYWAY. He told me to go home, I refused (because I’d forgotten my keys, but I pretended it’s because I was dedicated to the workout) and then huffed off to the treadmill to bash out a quick run. I finished up, had a wee, washed my face, and ran across the gym, sneaking up behind my boyfriend and taking him out at the knees as he was about to do box steps. He laughed, I laughed, I picked up a sandbag and we got on with a joint workout until we were sweating buckets and couldn’t breathe.

Thankfully, everyone else was just as hot as we were, and the bins had to be emptied twice in the hour we were there because of all the sweaty tissues and towels. YUM.

 

Stats so far: days 10, workouts 11