Tag Archive | Exercise

Best Places on Earth to Live. 

Let’s just get you out your misery right away. The first best place to live is Jos- Plateau State, Nigeria.

This post is about the second best place; the Virgin Islands (British).


These lovely set of islands aren’t perfect, but I love calling them home for many reasons.

For example, the people. 95 percent of residents are amazing and caring. I guess that should go without saying for such a small territory. Although, every now and then you come by one or two people with nasty attitudes from hell, but I’ve learnt to deal with such people. Diplomatic or not, I’ve learnt to deal with it.

Before this evening, I hadn’t exercise intensely in about two weeks. I’ve been in and out of the doctor’s office for a while with Continue reading

Advertisements

Not Jealous, I Promise.

Dear Nigerian Husband,

You should know this by now, i really do enjoy working out. Apart from exercise helping to sculpt the body that will carry your offspring, it also keeps me sane and prevents me from going to jail (Just kidding, You don’t have to worry about that at all- I’m from a good home and know how to handle my anger.)

DSC_1604So for the past two years, I’ve exercised somewhat consistently and if not for bad eating habits every now and then, I’ll be on several runways around the world making money that will help in building that big family house we are going to have.
Lately though, I’ve taken the Continue reading

You With the Big Behind!

My dear Nigerian Husband,

I have an issue!
See for the past year and a half or so, I’ve been working out like a crazy person, not only to be fit but I’ve been doing a whole lot of squats to try get my behind sculpted!

The issue is, it’s not been looking exactly how I’ve always envisioned.

About a month ago, I noticed this Spanish lady who just joined the gym. This woman who seem to have all the butt in the world just keeps moving it around the place and intimidating we small-butt ladies.

Nigerian Husband, who is she? And why is she doing more squats right in front of me? Why does she workout right next to me all the time, constantly reminding me that I have a long way to go before I get to her level!
I don’t like this type of butt bullying oh! Please tell her to go to another gym oh! This intimidation can’t and shouldn’t be allowed to continue.

I’m heading home, aerobics today wasn’t for the faint-hearted.

Bye!

Bring Back My Shoe.

DSC_0204

Yes, I want my shoe back.

I’ve been back on my fitness grind and all excited with the little changes I’m seeing on my body. Needless to say, the results have been fueling me to keep going.

Hence, this morning, I got up early, packed all my work stuff, got changed into my work out wear and got extra clothes.(Plan was to exercise, shower at the gym then be at the office early)
I’ll be covering an assignment tonight and may not have the time to attend aerobics this evening.

I was all excited and was even thinking of which songs I’ll workout to when I get to the gym. The last step was to wear my shoes…

I found just the right shoe and

couldn’t find the left leg!

Certainly, this shoe has got to be under the couch on the porch.. Phssss, it wasn’t! Next, I thought my neighbors were playing a prank on me.

Immediately, I thought my Jamaican neighbor had it. I was sitting on the ‘throne’ this morning when I saw his him pass by on my porch.  I was convinced he had them and was even telling my landlord that the neighbor must stop being silly.

I got mad but not super mad. I was sure I’ll walk upstairs and he’ll just hand over my shoe. Again, I was wrong. He didn’t have my shoe.

My exercise plans came crashing down right before my eyes!!! I couldn’t workout this morning.

I’m mourning the loss of my shoe. It may look really old, ugly, big, uncool and all that nonsense, but I want it back! That’s my only exercise shoe! Bring back my shoe!

This pair of Nike sneakers has seen me through a lot. It’s seen me through one break-up, several stressful days and even many happy days.

 

I’ve done many 5 mi + runs with this pair. This shoe has anchored me on several socarobic and aerobic sessions.

The last time that shoe was seen was Saturday evening while I was cleaning my apartment. It was right in front of my door beside the couch. There was no sign of any suspicious activities going on.

I even wore it on Saturday to the gym. If I knew that was the last time I’d be seeing it, I would have stayed at the gym longer. This isn’t the life I bargained for this week. I hoped I’ll eat right, work out like a pro and burn a lot of calories! 😦

I want my shoe back!

Now my only guess as to the whereabouts of this shoe is- the neighbor’s dog must have been a bit too excited and ran off with my dear Nike shoe.
The first time I saw that dog, I didn’t quite like it. If you ask me, I’d say the dog is silly and stupid. How can a dog be too friendly to just randomly run to your apartment and want to jump on your lap? sigh.No dog, we aren’t cool. you can’t just run around the place like we’ve been friends. I mean, even the landlord’s dog, which i’ve known for years doesn’t dare come by my apartment without my permission.

Anyway, I think my neighbor’s pest pet, may have gone away with my shoe,

I want my shoe back 😦

Folks, I’m accepting donations for a new pair. While you all flood me with requests on how to donate, I’m also accepting free espionage services as well as intelligence on how

we can recover my shoe.

Vou

DSC_0209

Meanwhile, I got these yesterday afternoon! You needed to see me working out at the gym… I felt so flyyyyyy!

“Are You Adding Weight?”

The photo with the green dress was the one He questions. and this super blurry one is of me before exercise this morning.

The photo with the green dress was the one He questioned. And this super blurry one is of me before exercise this morning.

Gentlemen and Ladies, Girls and Boys,

So, let us get this straight. There is a strong contender for the title of The Nigerian Husband, as a matter of fact, this contender has been around long before the Nigerian Husband made his first appearance on this blog…hahaha.

However, just like the Nigerian Husband is always busy preparing for the big family we are going to have, the contender as well, is always busy and hardly reads this blog, hence, I can put him on full blast here.

This morning, after the contender saw a photo I took over the weekend, this blunt son of a baptist didn’t think of anything flattering to say… What he said troubleshot me out of  my bed, straight into my work out clothes and set me running like a mad woman on the track.
“Are you adding weight?”

This one and only contender happens to be a contender for many reasons, one being his brutal honesty and inability to pretend or sugar coat things.

I made it to the track, ran a few 800-metre laps before joining the guys having aerobics.

It was tough, but I wasn’t about to back out. I had to/have to prove this contender that that weight will go away in no time.
I almost gave up twice during the parallel planks. What kept me going? I kept chanting “for the Nigerian Husband, for the Nigerian Husband.”

By the way, his question only pushed me because I’ve been feeling that way a lot lately and have had plans to exercising rigorously again. I’m not exercising so he stays or hang around longer. I’m exercising so I hang around longer and have a better life with him & the people I cherish the most.

The work out this morning was for the only contender for the title of The Nigerian Husband. Who and for what did you dedicate your exercise today to?

Have a great Tuesday folks, don’t forget live, love, laugh, fart, be silly, life is incredibly too short- Oshe! (Just because he says it a lot)Image

I’m A Queen.

Dear Nigerian Husband,

I’ve noticed that in a few of my posts to you, I’ve spoken too much of what you expect of me and have almost neglected some things I’ll expect from you.

I am a queen, and I’ll expect you to treat me for what I am.
Wait, don’t jump off your throne in disgust over my inflated ego, let me explain.

I’ve heard a few of your mates complain about women not knowing what they want. (I won’t be mad if you think like them) In fact, you guys may be right to some extent. I don’t always know what I want, but I have a pretty good idea of what I do not want. I don’t want you to be clueless!

You, my Nigerian Husband are/will be my king and l can tell you this much, you will be treated like the royalty you are.

From the moment we met/ From the moment you meet me, I’ve always expected/ I will always expect you to pamper me. Oh, I don’t mean treat me like a baby, call me every hour of the day. I don’t mean send me flowers every week, I don’t mean shower me with gifts.

I’m a queen already/will be a queen already by that time, so I can afford those things right?

Treat me like a queen, send me little, short notes every morning, reply my text messages within 10 minutes after you receive them. You’re allowed to respond later if you’re in an important meeting or activity that will raise enough money to take care of the big family we are going to have.

Treat me like a queen, spend some time with me listening to poems, John Legend, and reading a good book.  I love anything that has to do with arts and music. I promise, you’ll get almost anything within my power once you understand and appreciate the arts with me.

My Dear Nigerian Husband, treat me like a queen, take an hour each week to help with my natural hair. It doesn’t have to be fancy. We can sit on the porch while you unravel my twists or even massage my scalp with coconut oil.

I am a queen, I like to workout, come running with me once or twice a week. As you can see in the photo, I have a pouch I need to get rid of. I am a queen, come exercise with me.

I am a queen! I like handwritten letters… Send me a letter in the mail box every now and again! (not the mail box on the internet. I mean, the one the mail man checks every morning)

Treat me like a queen, send me a note every night before you go to bed. Treat me like a queen, be the first to read any posts published on this blog. Treat me like a queen, be the reason I retire completely from writing horrible, bitter-woman poems… Be the reason I become a sappy romance poet.

I am my father’s princess (ha, my dad doesn’t believe in that kind of nonsense….lol) I am/ will be your queen, be on the good side of my father. Go have a random conversation with him about all the topics he’s got an interest in. I am important to my family and they are important to me. Treat me like a queen, get to know them.

Treat me like a queen, join me in my random photography adventures. Treat me like a queen, lets spend a quiet afternoon listening to TED Talks on photography, poetry and the topics that highlight the importance of being unique and being a good human being.

Treat me like a queen, let’s go to church together, lets exchange devotional each morning and feel free to send me random Bible passage throughout the day.

These are just a few of the things I require of you my Dear Nigerian Husband. I’ll need you to use your discretion in finding out the rest.

I am a queen. (Goodness, what the heck was this post about again? This has got to be one of the cheesiest posts IImage

‘ve ever had. )

 

Smile, live, laugh, love, fart, be silly: life is too short 🙂

Vou