Like a key chain at the fair when you don’t break any balloons.

Still exhilarated by my free gym pass—the charming man behind the Planet Fitness counter had refused my open wallet, defying the yellow pages quote of $20/day—I am standing under a sign that reads ‘Judgment Free Zone.’ A mere four days after my competition, and against the advice of QMR, I am ready to work out, heavy, hard core, American style. Last year I was reprimanded for sporting a tank top in an Ontario branch of this franchise, but here, in the good old US of A, my armpits breathe freely. No one tells Americans what to do with their appendages! Continue reading →

I’m sure you have all heard American comedian Jeff Foxworthy list clues revealing that ‘you might be a redneck…’ For instance, ‘If you think that loading the dishwasher means getting your wife drunk, then you might be a redneck.’ Good one, Jeff. I have my own version, based on recent experiences with lifting heavy things at the gym, eating chicken for the past five months, and constantly studying my ass in the mirror. In a sincere effort to avoid becoming a complete diet bitch, here is my latest stab at fitness humour:

Signs that you might be a bodybuilder:

1. Your clit is bigger than a medjool date. Continue reading →