Satirical Slaughter of the fitness ‘Profession’

 

After writing, submitting and performing a rather melancholic piece at the first 9Hirji spoken word event, I decided to take a lighter approach to my writing for last Friday’s event. I am only too familiar with basing my writing, whether it be poems or prose on a solemn subject matter and so toying with humour is somewhat of a more challenging affair. I played with a lot of topics for this event and wrote numerous lines, complete and incomplete pieces but nothing really felt right.

It was only when I stopped really thinking and glanced aimlessly through my Facebook and Instagram feeds that the idea hit me. As a fitness fanatic with pretty extensive knowledge and experience of competing at an elite level, nothing grinds on me more than these get-fit-quick schemes and Instagram ‘like’ whores. There isn’t a day goes by that I don’t see someone touting the latest diet phenomenon or sensationalising basic work-out principles; Juiceplus and Herbalife, Caveman diets and 60-second ab workouts. Last week I even read something about Breatharianism, yes, a diet on which people exist solely on air alone…AIR. If only someone could direct this Breatharian lifestyle to the millions affected by world hunger we could put OXFAM and Feed the Children out of business.19452985_1868872706766486_222520762331115035_o

Nonetheless, before I get onto my soapbox so-to-speak and rant about the diabolical nature the multi-million-pound diet and fitness industry, I’ll get to the point. During my Facebook flicking and Instagramming, I started to word vomit a few lines of what would become my piece for the 9Hirji event. This piece attempts to tear into the morality of the modern fitness industry and highlight the fickle nature of many “qualified” personal trainers. It is a satirical and sarcastic attempt to reveal the truth behind the filtered fitness profession; one I feel passionate and at times genuinely pissed-off about.

 

It is definitely more of a performance piece, so I’m not entirely sure how it will read, but take from it what you will:

 

 

“First of the year, sign you up, new you, new me, new us,

Pull on those joggers, lace up those trainers it’s time to see what all the fuss…

Is about down in new gymnasium, the one with the fancy machines.

The one that steals half of your pay cheque and swallows up half of your dreams.”

 

“Rise and shine.

Drag your arse out of bed, the avocado won’t smash itself.

Glug down the green mixture, with the slimiest texture,

I swear it is good for your health.”

 

“Step up, step down and repeat again,

You’ll get used to it I swear.

Yes, it’s monotonous.

Yes, it’s mundane.

But listen, I don’t really care.”

 

“Sign up right now to my 60-day plan and commit to some cheese grater abs,

Biceps and triceps, lats and traps, and the coveted Kardashian ass.

Sign up for 90, I’ll throw in a shaker and some Instagram filter lessons,

Cos face it, that matters more than my cut and paste gym sessions.”

 

“Now, Get on the treadmill and up the pace, before we move on to some Zumba,

Cross fit you say?

Show me your snatch,

Don’t forget to dip before going under,

Now hit 50 reps in 60 secs and don’t stop until your back starts to burn,

If it ain’t hurting, it ain’t working,

And no, you don’t get no desert.”

 

“Well, maybe on your cheat days, I’ll throw in a couple of Krispy Kremes,

Let you take five guys to Maccy Ds,

As long as 6 out of 7 you’re eating ‘clean’,

My plan will give you the body of your dreams.”

 

“No, I’m not lying, my transformations tell the story,

Photo-shopped and filtered in all their glory.

No, you don’t have those abs or tiny waist.

But you gotta admit, the lighting’s great!”

 

“Fake?

Of course, it’s not fake, just like this shake,

Juice plus,

Slim without the fuss

30-day guarantee,

If it doesn’t work,

You’ll get the next month free.”

 

“Lose a few pounds, drop a dress size,

Reward yourself with extra fries.

A burger, some nachos and a diet coke,

Watch your money go up in smoke.”

 

“Start Monday, new week, new you,

Back on the waggon, round two.

Those shakes seemed to work, my plan was just right.

Show me your money, don’t put up a fight.”

 

“Step up, step down and repeat again,

You’ll get used to it I swear.

Yes, it’s monotonous.

Yes, it’s mundane.

But listen, I don’t really care.”

19417268_1868875630099527_8874386532718781098_o

 

Images courtesy of Dubai Poetics and photographer Myriam Nehmeh  instagram.com/mashrou3_suwar

 

 

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