This is when I need a belly lashing





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This morning I was minding my own business, telling clients to kill themselves during my Lagree Fitness-Style Pilates class…

Mind over matter, people! If you want to see change, you have to tell your body to keep going. You’ve got this! Keep breathing in, keep breathing out! Engage your core as you press that leg back! 

yada yada yada, etc, etc, etc…

And I say those things because – pfff! That drill sergeant shit always makes me work harder. Plus, I kinda like ordering people around, especially when I know they’ll thank me later. And I always know. It was a great moment to say the least… SMH (that means “shaking my head” in ridiculous text-ease), but I digress.

While I taught, I took off my top layer long-sleeved shirt, because MY GOD it’s 80 degrees here and I was sweating through my shirt without even working out (NO it wasn’t a hot flash. Don’t go there). Can you believe it though? I realize the rest of the country is in a deep freeze and I am damn lucky to have warm temps, but this was crazy. And no matter what the weather looks like outside, no one wants sweat marks on their clothes. So it was me, my workout bra top and my yoga pants traipsing around the studio barking out the next move.

By the way — did I tell you that I’ve always been pretty proud of my abs? Not just because I work hard, but even before I ever had kids… hell, even AFTER I had kids, my abs were always in pretty great shape. That’s because from a young age I always did tons of ab exercises.

I taught in my bra top for TWO straight hours before this… THIS happened:

After I sculpted the asses and abs of the Beverly Hills elite… after the studio was dark and I was packing up my things to leave, I glanced at myself in the mirror (the place is floor to ceiling mirrors, for goddsakes)… after all of that… what did I see?

Something I’ve never in my life seen on my body. A trace of CELLULITE on my ABS!

Pull out the laser printer, run this blog post through that printer and post this on the wall with big red letters on it saying,



Talk about a motivator.

I immediately pointed this trace of cellulite out to M.C. Nugget when I got home. I pulled out the magnifying glass… and can you believe, he swore he didn’t see a thing? What a great guy!

As I sit here, carrot in mouth, thinking about ways to extract the food and wine from the past six weeks from my body FAST, my brain can’t seem to come up with anything other than liposuction. I may need some of those brain foods talked about in my LJD post here….  But any other ideas?

My solution is to reign in the diet and pump up the volume on the workouts. No more Mr. Nice Girl on my booty. I may think I’m cute sometimes, but I don’t care how you size it up – cellulite is never cute. This is WAR. This – of all times – is DEFINITELY when I need a belly lashing… and I’m here to deliver it, post haste.

Watch me and learn people. Watch and learn.


March 25, 2013 at 09:04PM
Arya Ziai / / CC BY


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Blog content copyright 2014, LISA JEY DAVIS a.k.a. Ms. Cheevious.


Cat belly photo credit:

~Jetta Girl~ / / CC BY-NC-ND


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