The Challenge I Couldn’t Reject...

Back in the good old days, you know, the care free student days, the days of Call of Duty all nighters, drunken evenings in the SU bar and when fine dining meant pasta for breakfast, lunch and dinner, working out for me was not just a past time, it wasn’t a hobby, it was a way of life, it was embedded in my routine. I loved any form of physical activity and participated in anything that was thrown my way. Boxing, gymnastics, football...just show me a sport and I’d partake in it, show me a tree and I’d climb it. And anything could set my passion alight, a TV show (last man standing) a movie (Rocky) or even a randomly placed obstacle in the middle of the street.

Probably at the height of my fitness (lol, at the matching belt and laces)

However since those glory days, life has caught up with me and time constraints have found a way to eat into my recreational activities ever decreasing the time available to participate in the hobbies, which I loved and cherished and that contributed to so much of my personality and character.

Alas, that all changed on an alcohol fueled September evening. On this evening whilst innocently sipping a caprinha with a friend, I was blindsided, taken from behind, kicked in the nuts, insulted some may say!

Whilst puffing my chest out and proudly bragging about my previous exploits in the fitness arena, the medals I had won, the goals I had scored, the acrobatics I did effortlessly, she told me that she couldn’t believe it and that she would never have assumed I could have been serious about working out AND that she is more of a gym person than I could ever be!…That was the last straw! *flashing lights* masculinity challenged! Now this conversation got more excitable and heated until we agreed a challenge. A challenge that would demonstrate not only physical strength, but strength of character, of commitment, of persistence and ultimately of self-motivation AND that would most importantly make her eat her words!

The gauntlet had been set, the guillotine had been weighted and stabilised! Whoever attends the gym the most each week gets a point, the person with the most points by Easter Monday wins! Wins what you ask, Wins a....

Now I am used to competing in sportsman’s bets, whereby the winner takes home bragging rights or man points or if a financial reward was at stake, it would be no more than a pound or a pint at a Weatherspoons (of which my “friends would never pay, citing hard times as an excuse”).

But wow, how the stakes have been raised, how the ante has being elevated. I have stepped into the big leagues with this one. As the delicate cocktail glasses crashed against the sturdy mahogany table, I realised I had helplessly meandered into deep water, drifting out to sea like a lonely can of cider at Blackpool Beach, tossed by a pubescent teenager whilst having it large on a Friday night. Then instantly with an intoxicated handshake the wager was set.

Before....

After

If losing ones masculinity wasn’t enough, Financial ruin was also on the cards…for the person who wins the most points and is victorious in this battle of will wins a luxury holiday to…. Santorini. Flight and hotel included! I hope she has an application read to apply for a pay day loan because in the infamous words of Nas "I WILL NOT LOSE!". 

Game on! The beast has been awoken! Fyi at the time of writing the score is 3 weeks to 1 in my favour! Lets do this!