Sunday, 25 October 2009
Bye bye Turbo Arm!
My friend Systems is not only very organised (hence how she earned her blog name), but also buff. She’s one of those annoying people who gets a buzz out of the burn. The enjoyment of exercise is a totally foreign concept to me. In order for me to enjoy it, it needs to be hidden or repackaged as something else. So a bike ride for example, is only enjoyable if it’s a romantic outing with husband. Swimming is only fun if it involves going to see lots of nice fish and running – well – I’ve still not managed to go for a run, going for lots of lunch time walks / shopping instead.
In the October issue of Marie Claire, there is an advertorial on how to get the perfect arms in 4 weeks. Week one is to use Dove hair minimising deodorant. This I can do! The second week ads in some cardio (lunch time walks as mentioned) and resistance training. Week three introduces exfoliating from head to toe and week four is giving oneself a good fake tan.
I decided that if I was going to do this properly, I needed to enlist the help of an expert regarding the exercise. Systems used to have a personal training business, so I went round to get some tips. Systems being Systems had not only devised me a plan, but had kindly gotten me a big ball and some sort of elasticised exercise band that would look better placed in a sex shop than a gym.
I nearly cried when we compared arm muscles. I have what is known (mainly by Scouse) as “Turbo Arm”. Turbo Arm often pops up on pictures where your arm is caught side on by a camera. Due to the arm being as toned as bowl of rice pudding, it sort of spreads out against my side, looking similar to a ham on the bone rather than a lovely toned bicep.
So two or three times a week I have been doing arm exercises with the rubber band and ball whilst watching TV. I don’t know the real names of the exercises because I managed to leave my plan at Systems’ house. So in order to remember them I have given them descriptive names such as bondage curls and sex face lifts, appealing to the memory banks of my incredibly immature brain.