Fitness Fantasies

I want to know about your fantasies. Tell me every filthy detail!

Don't worry, this site hasn't been hijacked by a sleazy spammer! I am talking about fitness fantasies.

You know how people say, "well it's all very well for Oprah with her personal chef and trainers and all!" blah blah blah. Well let's just pretend we're in an alternate universe in which money and time are no object. In terms of fitness and healthy livin', anything is possible. Anything at all. Nothing is too ridiculous.

What would you do? Who would you like to meet? Where would you go? What would you purchase? What would you like to try?

  • I would go on a poncy yoga retreat (for beginners) on an exotic island where you get massages and tropical fruits between the bendy classes.
  • A gym would open up at the end of my street with Body Jam, Body Pump, yoga, Pilates and spinning classes at times very convenient to me.
  • Just in case I couldn't be arsed walking to the end of my street, there'd be a magical home gym in my fantasy spare room. It would have one mirrored wall, gobs of free weights and kettlebells, a punching bag, a spinning bike, a treadmill and a cushioned floor so I bust some kickboxing moves. Oh oh oh and a widescreen wall-mounted telly to do workout DVDs.
  • I would visit Cathe Friedrich's gym in New Jersey and attend some of her classes.
  • I'd have a personal training session with Bob and Jillian here in Scotland. It would crack me up no end to walk up Dunfermline high street with Jillian Michaels and see her WTF-ing at Greggs The Bakers et al.
  • Before she nipped off back to LA, Jillian would make me a personal MP3 workout so I could do cardio with her yelling, LAST CHANCE WORKOUT, GINGER! I really need heavy-handed motivation when it comes to cardio.

    Note to Jillian: have you considered selling downloadable audio workouts, a la iTrain or CardioCoach? So cheap to produce, so much less work than that fancy WiiFit stuff!

  • I would have a wardrobe makeover with a crack team of fashion experts, They would bring the clothes to me as shops make me grumpy.
  • I would have an Access All Areas pass to the London 2012 Olympics. Just to watch, mind. No athletic delusions here.
  • I would have a column in a mag like Zest or Self for which I'd be obliged to try a different and wildly expensive sport every month and it would pay so handsomely I wouldn't have to do anything else.
  • I would have an endless supply of ultra-flattering Ellie Gray contour gym pants.

  • And non-skanky quality gym t-shirts.
  • And it would be great if they could all be self-laundering.
  • I would have an endless supply of TJ's Crunchy Roasted Almond Butter.

  • I would have a massive vegetable garden where everything always grew properly. There'd be delicious selection of baby salad greens growing all year round regardless of neglect and snails.
  • Someone would invent a bra as effective as the Enell but not in that creepy fabric.
  • I would have the Mother of All Fitness Gadgets strapped to my wrist. Stylish heart rate monitor GPS route planner barcode scanner MP3 player Swiss Army Knife… that's another post altogether.
  • I would posses a gym bag that can actually contain all of my kickboxing sparring gear PLUS my yoga mat… so on Monday night everyone at kickboxing can stop making the "Whoa, are you going camping again?" jokes every time I tumble into the room like a packhorse

I could go on all day but I will spare you.

Dr G has shared his fantasies too:

  • To be totally fit and buff without any effort and/or drug abuse on my part to avoid putting on my annual "winter coat" of lard.
  • To be able to consume copious amounts of real ale, crisps and chips with curry sauce without any effect on my waistline.
  • To have time and health to complete all 283 Munros, including overcoming vertigo to do the really dodgy ones.

This post was inspired by the amazing Angie of You Look Fab who recently wrote about her fashion fantasies.

So… do you have any fitness fantasies that you want to share? Please be as elaborate, wild and unrealistic as you like. The wackier the better!

How to Listen

What's this podcasting malarkey all about?

A podcast is like a new-fangled radio show that allows amateurs like us to broadcast to the world.

Technically it's just an audio file that you can listen to on demand on your computer or transfer to a portable device like an MP3 player or phone. You can subscribe to podcasts/shows so that you automatically receive new episodes.

How do I listen to Two Fit Chicks and a Microphone?

There are three different ways:

  • Listen in your web browser – stream the show directly from the Two Fit Chicks website using the player that we embed in every episode post
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Why did you get so fat?

Howdy! I am having a busy bugger of a week so I found this entry that I wrote back in January 2008 but couldn't find the nerve to post at the time.

Lately I've been doing a bit of publicity for the book; email interviews and the like. I always get stuck on one inevitable question:

Why'd you get so bloody fat?

(not actual phrasing)

Every time I see that question I sigh at the laptop screen. It sounds so accusing, like I committed a terrible crime.

"I don't knooooow" is always the initial answer. Then I poke Gareth in the ribs. "What should I say?"

"Just say you were really hungry! I dare ya."

Seriously, it's a difficult question. It's easy to be flippant like I was on the About page: It was a love of Nutella that knew no bounds. Then there's the basic mathematical reason: Ate more food than my body required.

Calories in, calories out; who ate all the pies. Just like losing weight was just eating less and moving more, right? If it was really that simple, I'd have just posted a food log for the past seven eight years instead of these endless sprawling brain dumps. Calories in calories out is a how explanation, not a why.

It's especially tricky to answer the question in a precise, soundbitey manner. It took 23 pages to explain. And of course being a chronic procrastinator I left that section right until last. I thought the other 90,000 words were a bastard to put together, but the 5000 words of Introduction were the worst. I was eager to drive on to the guts of the story with all the happy adventures and improved self-image, but the allegedly fabulous transformation wouldn't be convincing unless the scene was properly set. How the bloody hell does someone reach nearly 160 kilograms at the tender age of 23?

I gave my sister the shoddy first draft of the Introduction back in April. She told me bluntly that I wasn't being honest. "You're glossing over everything," she said, "And hiding behind jokes. You have to dig deeper."

Of course I got defensive and bawled my eyes out, because I didn't have time to bloody dig deeper! And I didn't want to, either.

But we talked it through for two whole days, picking over the past. I was afraid of offending people. I was afraid of sounding sorry for myself. I was afraid people would think I was making excuses. I was afraid of looking like a dickhead in print. It was confronting to stop and think about how I got into such a big fat mess. Why did I let it carry on so long?

The Introduction was finalised five days before the manuscript was due, after endless consultations and rewrites. I was happy with it in the end, but be buggered if I can reduce it to one simple sentence. There are no easy answers. I really did love my Nutella, but food was more than just food. From a very early age it was always there, easy to find when lonely or angry or anxious. And the more I ate the more I felt detached from my body and just lived inside my head. I'd barely notice another layer of fat wrapping around me, then another and another, like rings on a tree.


I love to cook… I’m definitely an “live to eat” rather than “eat to live” kind of lady. A little of what you fancy, I reckon. Here you’ll find random recipes and food ideas, mostly very healthy but a few treats too. There’s also entries from my now-defunct cooking blog, Cooking With Ginger.

Alternatvely you can browse through the Recipes category archive page, which includes all the pretty pictures.

Instant raspberry frozen yogurt


Two Fit Chicks and Microphone is a healthy living podcast for the people!

It was born in mid-2009 when Shauna Reid of Dietgirl was mourning the demise of Jillian Michaels' radio show. After searching in vain for substitute she pondered filling the void herself but decided to drag Carla of MizFit along for the ride.

About the podcast
We typically publish a new show on the 1st of each month. With Shauna in Scotland and Carla in Austin, we hook up via Skype to chat about all sorts of health and fitness topics – from running, weight training, food, goal-setting to tutus and chafing.

There's so many fantastic people online kicking butt with their health and fitness goals and never enough time to visit or read them all. In our regular segment Blogger News, we celebrate your successes and that helps inspire others – why not share your news too?

Neither of us claim to be experts – we're just passionate about healthy living and have a lot of personal experience when it comes to making big changes in our lives:

  • Carla lost 40 pounds 17 years ago and has maintained that loss through clean eating and a love of all things weight training.
  • Shauna lost 175 pounds and bumbled her way through three years of maintenance. Then after a long period of depression and 50 pound regain, she's now finding her way back using shrink sessions and mindful eating techniques.

About Carla
Carla Birnberg is an award winning author and fitness expert. A onetime personal trainer, she owned a boutique training studio, Head2Heel, in Chapel Hill, N.C. Carla also competes in both bodybuilding and fitness including a third place finish in the 2001 NPC House of Pain bodybuilding show. Her writing can be seen on Yahoo!Shine, in the Atkins Nutritional monthly newsletter, Experience Life Magazine, Austin Monthly Magazine and as a monthly health column in Good Life Magazine.

About Shauna
Shauna Reid is an Australian writer who lives in Scotland. Her memoir The Amazing Adventures of Dietgirl, published by Harper Collins, was named one of Marie Claire's Top 10 Diet Books and received a four-star review in People magazine. She has blogged since 2001 at Shauna's writing has been featured ELLE, Cosmopolitan, Grazia and The Mail on Sunday (UK). She has appeared on CBS The Early Show and her blogs and book have been featured in O Magazine, The Washington Post, The Wall Street Journal, Fitness and AOL Health. She is also co-founder and community director of Up & Running, providing kickass online running courses for women.

We sometimes use affiliate links when linking to books mentioned on the podcast. This means we get a small commission from any resulting sales. We use this to offset podcast hosting costs. Thank you kindly for your support!

Contact Us

We are fools for your feedback! Please send us your episode ideas and tips and/or share your news.

Share your news
In each episode we have a segment called Blogger News where we highlight groovy things people are doing in the blogging world. We'll link back to your blog or Twitter feed in the episode's blog post. It's your chance to show off! Previous news items have included a first 5K, reaching a non-scale goal, sticking to a plan, tackling a long dreaded task… no item is too big or small. It just has to be something important to you that youu're busting to tell someone! To submit your Blogger News, please use this submission form ONLY. We no longer accept News items submitted from other sources.

Your questions and episode ideas

Due to increased time pressures unfortunately we're unable to give advice and/or recomendations to queries about diet, health and fitness. However we love to hear your ideas for future episodes, so if there is a particular issue or topic you'd like to know more about, please tell us! We use your queries and ideas to plan future episodes so your feedback is always welcome.

How to reach us

The Awful Tooth

Ww While going through the Boxes of Stuff at Chez Mothership earlier this year I found my old Weight Watchers weigh-in cards (click pic to zoom). Specifically the cards from 2001, as opposed to the cards from the seventy previous attempts. The 2001 cards were sprinkled with gold stars and hope and toil, as opposed to despair and chocolate.

Just one look at those stars and I'm back there in my brown size 26 trousers with the dissolving thighs, about to nick off for one last pee before facing the machine. Looking at the handwriting I see how the ladies didn't write my weight down until Week 6, only the result, so I wouldn't freak out. I knew the actual number – I saw it on that other card, you know the one they store inside the WW high-tech filing system of Rusty Metal Box With Dividers In It? But it was cool that they tried to conceal it, lest I wail over their scale again. I know I've said this many times but they were the kindest women I ever met.

Looks like after Week 6 it was deemed safe to write it down, and I went back and filled in the gaps. I must've been getting cocky. So sure of success after six weeks! Hold your horses sucka, it's going to be six more years!

It's kind of sad that I can look at a piece of cardboard from eight years ago and know exactly what happened when, each pink sticker like a family photograph. Oh bless, that's that 0.4 gain when McDonalds introduced the Crunchie McFlurry. And that kilo came off the week I started Body Combat! And look, now its back again, after a family feud and two Chinese takeaways.

Another treasure I found was my weirdo tooth x-ray from 2003. There's a bit in the DG book where I had to get all four of my wisdom teeth surgically removed and I had a Fat Girl Freak Out that there won't be enough anesthetic in the land to knock me out. If only I'd found this earlier so we could have illustrated the chapter! Disappointing.

Check out the freaky corner choppers, flying in from all the wrong angles! I know I talk a lot of rubbish but surprisingly I have a non-big mouth… therefore there was no room at the inn for wisdom teeth.


Every time I see an x-ray I always marvel that underneath our clothes and words and personae WE'RE ALL JUST SKELETONS. Isn't that comforting?

Dramatic close up of one quarter of my wisdom…


Disclaimer: I've not been sleeping well this week and I'm totally delirious so please excuse the random piffle of this entry. Tomorrow's my first salsacise class – maybe it's anticipation keeping me up?! Bless ye and goodnight.

Summer Facelift

I've slightly jazzed up the blog templates so if things are looking weird, just hit Refresh a few times so the stylesheet can reload. I've been gawking at the same colour scheme for 8.5 years now so I wanted to give it some more oomph and zing. Dudes… I feel reborn. Carry on!

Cow Poo Manor

We're about 70% moved in to Cow Poo Manor, so named for the eeeenormous pile of manure that graces the otherwise charming rural view out our new back window. Right now I'm sitting in the empty living room in our old place, where the internet connection has miraculously started working again now that we're bloody leaving.

I will miss this house so much. It was a little cold over the winter – you could see your breath in the kitchen, and the olive oil turned white and frosty. But now that spring is here the garden is stunning and the grass is freakishly plush and velvety. I've never known lawn you could cuddle up to! The gardens of my childhood were riddled with bindis – tiny evil thorny weed things that hurt like buggery if you tread on 'em. As I explained to Dr G, in Australia even the lawn wants to kill you.

Cuppa tea and a Violet Crumble in the backyard – best day ever!

Thank you a bazillion all for your kick arse comments and emails last week when I chucked my wobbly! I'm moving into Stop Moping, Start Coping mode now. I hate being a whinge bag on here but by the same token pretending all was well wasn't working too well. I think I said  before, sometimes you need to just spew out the Mope before you can start to Cope. Feeling much better now…

Oh dear… better get back to work as I can hear Dr G very pointedly tidying things up. Hehe.