Who else has the January blues? This month is bad news and there’s no way of getting round it.
I never usually like this time of the year because everyone’s feeling the financial impact of Christmas and there’s that somewhat strange feeling of having an entire year ahead and not quite knowing what it will bring.
I can’t help but think back to this time last year, when about now me and partner Matt were under the sunny skies of Australia, having the time of our lives.
If you weren’t feeling the January blues, then I’m sure after reading that you probably are now! Sorry.
I can hear you saying ‘buck up your ideas Gibbo.’ Well that’s exactly what I tried to do this week by deciding to get rid of my muffin top.
Ladies, I can feel your empathy. That awful bulging part of your belly that sits just above your jeans is yuk.
So Operation Diet has been well under way this week, starting with a strict regime of meals that resemble the kind of food I used to feed my pet rabbit (and being a veggie really does mean I’m eating rabbit food).
Step two is really increasing the frequency and intensity of my gym workouts.
Now as regular readers will know, I go to the gym quite a lot – more than the average person I’d say.
We’re talking four to six times a week, even over Christmas, which I’m still congratulating myself about.
But there’s a big difference between visiting the gym and actually working out. So this week I thought ‘enough is enough Cheryl, move your backside’ – literally.
I signed up for a boot camp class run by an instructor who looks like he’s Dwayne ‘The Rock’ Johnson’s younger brother.
Well, I don’t know what was worse – the fact that within two minutes of working out I looked like a dried-up prune and was panting like a poodle in front of said instructor, or that halfway through the class I missed the step box, fell down, cracked my knee and spent the last part trying not to cry as I hobbled on and off the equipment.
It wasn’t pretty – for anyone. Happy blinking new year!