I was sports addicted, driven to match the physical accolades of my father, and wanted the muscles I saw every night at 5.30pm when Hercules would fill the screen covered in enough baby oil to roast a ham.
So, what did I scrimp and save for until the day I turned 15? A gym membership to the Lincoln Recreation Center.
I still remember stepping onto the hallowed ground for the first time, the clink of the 20kg plates, the musty smell of decades of sweat and tears and my first personal trainer session which gave me heart palpitations (she was gorgeous and I was 15… come on guys).
Since that day a heated on-off-love-hate relationship has followed throughout life, eventually landing me in the fitness industry itself (living the dream).
Between the injuries, failed benches, and terrible meal plans there are some home truths that I wish 15-year-old acne faced me knew the day I started to biff tin.
So here are 5 things I’m passing on to you in the hopes it makes your relationship with the gym a smidgen easier.