My uni (Brummmyyy, in case you forgot) is doing a bring a friend to gym classes for free offer. For the uni newspaper, my job is to report on why this is fucking fabulous, without using the impressive alliteration, ‘fucking fabulous’ in the actual uni article, and how it can benefit our mental health, because I’m gonna be honest, my 4 9ams per week are definitely not my main source of happiness right now.
With classes such as Zumba, body pump, body attack, legs and glutes, pilates and spinning, there’s an option for everyone: whether you’re a classic fuck boy that skips leg day, or a basic bitch in cheap Gymshark leggings attempting to get a booty, there’s a class for you.
This is a really important move from the sport and fitness centre. Not all students can afford a gym membership – £300 for a gym for a year is a funnier joke than all of my blog posts combined. What are you supposed to do if you don’t have a sugar daddy but you need to maintain those gorgeous abs that you (wrongly) believe you have, as well as your mental health?
You’re right in thinking I’ve avoided that bank-breaking number. Instead, I’m all about that £16.99 per month, cancel anytime Puregym membership. My housemate and I have been hitting up the gym a big three (3!!) times a week at the moment. Ruby is determined to tone up dat ass, even though she has the butt of my dreams already (bitch). I’m a bit hesitant to publish this post though, because it means in about 6 weeks time – sorry, 2 weeks time – I’ll look back on this post after giving up entirely and think, well fuck, at least I tried, and then dip my hand back in my tube of ready salted Pringles.
[Edit: I was correct. I’m currently doing exactly that but with some home made rhubarb crumble rather than Pringles.]
Why am I already predicting this? It’s bloody hard to get both tits out of my bed when it’s dark by 4pm, consistently below 5 degrees, and West Midlands trains are more delayed than my period right now (I’m not pregnant!!). Even when I put my Tala sports bra on and the matching underwear, a fresh pair of leggings and a gym top that’s colour coordinated to my trainers, I still find myself watching yet another cold case on Netflix in my room instead of on the treadmill.
Ever since I’ve been seshing with Ruby though, I’ve stuck to my guns. It’s currently week 3 and I reckon I’ve got legs of steel already, under the layer of Pringles. Schedule a time for the gym, and then you’ll commit to it. My mental health has been up and down throughout my teenage years, and exercise has never let me down. Release those endorphins baby. Get sweaty. Earn that pack of Oreos. Feel good about yourself in the shower after a workout. Or don’t feel good if it’s the day after leg day, because yikes it hurts to walk.
You can sit on your bedroom floor – hoover it first pls – and get an ab workout in – search ‘10 minute ab workout’ by Alexis Ren on YouTube to get a real near-death experience. Alternatively, subscribe to Grace Beverly’s Shreddy app – currently £25 for 3 months (that’s 27p per day) for unlimited home and gym workouts and healthy vegan recipes to choose from. This means you don’t stand in the gym looking like a pleb when you don’t know what to do, and you don’t stand in the kitchen looking like a pleb when you don’t know what to cook. Or, if you’re as nutty as I am, and don’t fancy YouTube adverts or a £25 fee, do your local Parkrun (5k) for free at 9am every Saturday.
Whatever routine is best for you, just do it (#Nike)! You might moan at me now for telling you this, but I’m hidden behind my laptop, so you can’t slap me. Instead, you can get out and get those #gainz. You and your mental health will thank me later.