R U N A W A Y B R I D E S , S P I D E R W E B S & E A T I N G J A B S

So... Let’s just say my foray into the blogging world has been as committal as the ‘Runaway Bride’... but hell... Johnny Farnham has more comebacks notched up than me – so I think I am doing ok.

I’m a social media pest in every sense of the word, so much so, I could write an entire blog by hashtagging – let’s be honest, I’ll probably throw a few in as we progress... #justsayin

The last time I tapped on the keyboard with my left of field comments – I gave you an insight to why I became involved in sport. How I made my dad proud by getting my head stuck in the chair at Balmain Leagues Club and that it took his team mates a good hour to get me out in between tears of laughter...annndddd If we had ipods back then – I would say ‘Eye of the Tiger’ or ‘up there Cazaly’ would have been on high rotation.

I’ve also gone from talking about having my first fight in a boxing ring – to having just finished my second – and sweet baby Jesus – I had a cracker of a time doing it!

 

To paint a picture of what I looked like in my first few sessions, I’m hoping most of you have seen Bambi... now put the little darling on some ice skates, and some 16oz gloves... and then watch her walk through a spider web! You know when it sticks to you and you start doing that “fighting off an invisible ninja dance”... that’s what my boxing technique looked like.

 

Thankfully – Garth and Nat Wood both persisted in schooling me on the techniques of boxing...now I’m void of the ice skates... but I keep walking into those dam spider webs!

(caught up with the Grill team on TripleM - have a listen... Grill team Renee Gartner & Garth Wood

As I’ve progressed through the last few months – I have grown more and more respectful for the sport and the discipline required mastering it. Full credit to the boys for being patient and developing creative ways to explain how to stick and move – by creative I mean, they described flurries of short fast combos like ‘sets of six’, getting someone up against the ropes as ‘getting in the in-goal area’, slipping punches like ‘getting your head to the right side of the tackle’.

See – there is more to boxing than “punch them in the head” or “knock them out”...yelling that at a fight – is kinda like yelling things like “tackle him” and “he can’t run without a head” at a football game... are you getting what I’m throwing down here?

You need to work from your feet, your hips, your core, your back....your elbows...your shoulders... your hands... your head...and while you are thinking about that you’ve also got a front row seat at the sizzler buffet – and all they are serving are jabs – and apparently you reallllyyyyy like to eat them ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh AND you are meant be finding holes in their defence and feeding them too!

I also gave up that pale ale...which is just plain ridiculous for a beer and wine lover – but funnily enough, effective when it came to being able to concentrate, train...and diminish the beer keg I developed since I broke my ankle and had nothing else to do except WATCH sport and fist schooies!

With boxing being a ‘weight game’, the booze ban certainly helped... tortured me – but helped, not because I’m an alcho – but because I love having fun – being social....and to quote the great Ron Burgandy...IT TASTE SO GOOD WHEN IT PASSES THE LIPS!! ( he may have been talking about rum but let’s just say same-same for arguments sake)

I basically drew inspiration from Rock I to V... ran around wrapped in cling wrap and oversized tracksuits, shadow boxed in saunas... and yelled out ADDDDDRRRRRIIIIIIIIAAAAAAAAAANNNN .... ok... I didn’t do that last bit – but the extremities of the other parts were done – I just stopped short of heading to the local butcher and punching large chunks of cold meat.

I love it – I have the bug... but I don’t want to go to the drastic measures of the final days before weigh in again – I want to strip it all back, diet – strength and conditioning, technique.... the full 9 yards – and who knows.... Maybe Paul Kent wasn’t too far off the mark when he threw out a comment that made me have a laugh... ( First step to Olympic ring for Gartner) but let’s just hope they install ramps for my walking frame in the Olympic village.

So I raise my glass (of water...not beer0 and say, ‘Cheers to dodging Spider webs and laying off the jab buffets!’

Warme ReGarts,

 

RG

 

 

UP THERE CAZALY & SIMPLY THE BEST...I know all the words...

"Well you work to earn a living, but on weekends comes the time...you can do what ever turns you on, get out and clear your mind...Me, I like football and there's a lot of things around...but when you line 'em up together...The footy wins hands down..."

Yeup...you were just visually serenaded by 'A Women In League' ...to the sound of an AFL song...but a song that sums me up to a 'T' and I can only blame my family for that one.

Canterbury played its first premiership match against North Sydney on Anzac Day, 25 April 1935 at North Sydney Oval. In a match refereed by Tom McMahon, Norths won by a margin of 20 points to 5.

The First try scorer that day was Jack Hartwell, Snr ...My Great, Great Uncle... Following suit was my pop Jim Gartner and his brother Clive - all members of the Blue and White Army.

Jimmy and his beautiful wife, Betty shifted to the Northern Beaches where their son and my ol' man came through the ranks with the Narrabeen Sharks before becoming a Silver tail, then a Rooster and then Finishing his career as a Tiger.

The kid did alright too - In 1977 Rusty was the League's top try-scorer and at the end of the season earned himself a Green & Gold Jersey for Australia in the 1977 World Cup. He won a Grand Final in 78', shared in the loss of 88 and was a non-playing reserve in 89.

My cousin Daniel also went on to become a silvertail and play for the Green & Gold

1978 - Grand Final Replay... after drawing with Cronulla, they were forced to play a re-match on the following Tuesday.

SO...It's 'Women in League Round' in the NRL...and tickle me PINK!!!! I am a lady (sometimes questionable) AND I work in League and have grown up well and truly immersed in it (aside from THAT 1 year which we shall discuss later.)

Now there have been many a beautiful montage delivered by the NRL...

*Cue piano and voice that sounds like Russell Crowe's younger brother...

...of the Mum's who have brushed the dirt of the boys knees, soaked the grass stained jerseys and mutli-skilled as a taxi driver between netball, ballet, Footy, nippers...band practice?? Basically anything that the young tuckers wanted to be involved in really.

Than we fade into the ladies in the canteen - that even when you were 10c short, they would give you a wink and hand over the can of soft drink or throw in an extra tomato sauce with your meat pie or sausage roll.

(FYI: I make it sound like we were an unhealthy bunch with soft drink and meat pies...but we were from the childhood where we didn't come inside till the street lights came on...and we didn't communicate "@mum just playing back to base with the kids up the road #tagyoureit LOL" )

2 0 1 2  N R L  W O M E N  I N  L E A G U E

Each time this Round comes along, it makes me think of what my montage would look like...and although I would love to physically make it not too dissimilar to a Rocky comeback Montague...the words on the page will have to do. (Feel free to hum to the tune of 'Eye of the Tiger' while you read the below)

So there is a fairly rich League history as you have read...I unfortunately was too young to remember that stuff first hand - so thankfully there is now google, wikipedia, youtube and beer....and by beer I mean - the old man has a few...and I can learn allllllllll about the old days (clearly where I get my beer drinking from).

MY first hand memories include but are not limited to the following;

· Getting my head stuck in a chair at the Balmain Leagues Club.

Post game traditional dinner...where the kids run around screaming because we have already sat through the morning of not being able to speak to Dad because he was getting game ready, sitting in the car and listening to his motivational tapes including eye of the Tiger, Eagle Rock and Up There Cazaly (a song about an AFL player but Dad was all over it like a fat kid on cake ((See below)). Then sitting through a good couple of hours in the grand stands - mixed in with grabbing the cardboard box and sliding down the hills of Leichardt Oval...THEN heading to the Leagues Club.

 

U P   T H E R E  C A Z A L Y

S I M P L Y  T H E  B E S T

You can imagine by now...a kid like me was looking for things to... let's say 'TEST' my abilities'...so in this instance I found a chair...and stuck my head through the gaps in the back of it...you could say I became quite panicked when it didn't come out...it took about 5 players to get me out of it...only because all them including the mums were A) quite pissed at this stage and B) they found it hilarious! (...I got out for those of you playing along at home!)

· Being so scared of the Balmain Tiger Mascot I use to make the bloke take it off before walked past him. . . nuff said.

· Running around the training paddock with the likes of Matthew Ridge, Jack Elsegood, Ian Roberts and all the rest of the blokes my old man sprint coached for a while.

· Being FILTHY at the olds when the Super League even affected me because I wasn't allowed to Dance in the half time entertainment with my mates because 'it wouldn't look good due to my Manly allegiance.'

· Sitting in roll call at Little Athletics and when they came to my name the poor bloke simply asked me if I was any relation to Russel? I shot him down like I was standing at 12 paces and I'd turn to draw.... That day I decided I hated Rugby League and boycotted the game for an entire year because i didn't want to be known as Russel Gartner's daughter...oh the shhaaammmmmmeee!

But I came back to the game...and embraced the rich heritage my Dad and his family had built and two years ago, I got my first break on the sidelines of the Rugby League Fields with Fox Sports.

Last year I even sat on a lush red lounge as a panel host with 'The League Lounge' and allegedly 'only offered up opinion when I was spoken too and should have been replaced by someone else who was immersed in League'...ummm yeaup... nuff said...But I had a ball and worked & met some great people during that year.

And now...I am just finishing up my role with the Gold Coast Titans where I have been kicking around the offices for the past 6 years before becoming a full time tenant as their Media Coordinator over the last year and a bit.

THIS is where I have met some other crazy cats - much like myself...that are immersed in their love for the game...and they are LADDDDIIIEEEESSSSS!! (again...questionable at times)

I will introduce you to a special few that I'm banking on you loving...Social Media Ladies at that... Prepare yourself for another blog in the coming days that will immerse YOU into what THAT job entails...that shit CREAGH (yeup...Leaguing up some Kayne for ya...coz I'm so gangsta)

BUT....for all those that question where the MY passion for League comes from and why I am one of those 'Women in League'...it all came from being scared of a mascot, having my head stuck in a chair...cardboard boxes on the hills of Leichardt...working on the sidelines and so much more I could write for years....

"Now there's a lot more things to football, that really meets the eye...there are days when you could give it up...there are days when you could fly...You either love or hate it, depending on the score but when your team run out or they kick a goal...how's the mighty roar..."









Warm ReGarts,

RG

Bic Man Ninjas & Catalina wine mixers

So... I talk about Ninjas a fair bit...and today is no different!

TODAY, I stepped back into the gym for a 'propper' rehab session...non of this elastic calf pumps... I'm talking about a 'propper one-on-one with The Coach! His last words before I walked out of work last night were delivered with a smug ass smile and the words "I'm going to smash you tomorrow!"

SO...Ninja skills started off with what I refer to as "The Startled Ninja", the kind that when the alarm goes off, you sit upright in bed at the sound of music like you are about to attack a game of musical chairs with the ferocity of Usain Bolt after the starters gun. Literally...that is the name of my first alarm (yes i have four-clearly my mornings are my strong point.)

< Startled Ninja



<Like a gentle tap on the ass from your future self.



<I don't appreciate the tone....



<Sarcasm this early should not be tolerated....








SO...anyways... back to the gym I went...Coach had that same smug ass smile on his face from last night, except this time he was surround by large ropes that I imagine tug boats use to haul in a Cruise ship and what is referred to as 'Kettle Bells'....but no cups of tea were getting made (see what I did there...nope..OK...carry on) anywhooo....there was an assortment of upper body, with a sprinkling of lower limbs to occupy the Ethiopian sponsor child and it's meatier and well fed counterpart (That's the Right and left leg for those of you playing along at home).

After about my 4th set was when the Head fuck started (yes Dad...there was a need for such a strong descriptive word) ...((clearly you have also established I love a good 'pause' or as the writers of the world call them ... ellipses -carry on)) where were we....oh yeah...the head fuck! This is when you walk up to look at the chin up bar and you know you gotta haul ass by using upper body strength which in my case would make a 12 year old stamp collector look like a strong man.

So begins the head battle...typically the inner voices that tell you - 'Come on- You've got one more set...you can do this - I am woman, hear me roar'... except I'm a little more, lets say...unique...it went more like this:

Coach: *Sees me looking up at the bar with a great deal of anguish on my face and a left eye brow raise that would make "The Rock" look like he had botox and zero facial movement*

"You are doing better then I thought you would...you actually haven't lost that much strength"

My inner voice: "He is just saying that to make you feel better, he is laughing at you right now with the same inner voice that is talking to you...and is he fucking kidding me??!! - how many more of these do I have to do ... OK...shut up and just do it..."

*Continues to stare at the chin up bar...pretty sure we've now used up enough rest time to have made a cup of  tea and a muffin*

Coach:  "Right - you ready?"

(Coach may as well be training Charlie Chaplin minus the cute walking stick dances...the suit...the 'stash' and well....OK...I'm nothing Like Charlie Chaplin - that was a stretch...I am just a mute that doesn't talk till I am half way through my triple shot morning coffee.)

My inner voice: "OK....it's the Fucking Catalina Wine Mixer"

 I told you I was unique... why did this go through my head?? Because it was the only way I could express to myself that it was GO TIME and how 'fist pumpingly' excited I would be once I had knocked out a set of the worst facials known to man...weirder short-sharp exhales than a Bikram Yoga Class and more inner voice profanities than the inner monologue of someone who stubbed their toe in front of a group of toddlers.

So, session done and it's time to hit the ice-baths to give the poor Ethiopian sponsor child, who has no muscle let alone body fat to keep it warm in the Antarctic temperatures. I only went thigh deep and even my boobs were sitting above my shoulders for fear of being dunked into the icy waters - that's when you know shits getting real!

You know when you are getting into a pool and for some reason or other, I don't know whether we develop the odd concept during our development months in the womb - cause everybody does it - but... you take this giant breath in as if even the oxygen in your lungs is saying 'Bitch Please!! I AIN'T getting in there!!'.

Anyways, lets just say I was happier than a pig in mud when that was over...now, it has been about 3 months since I have done a proper upper body session like that...and the lactic acid is starting to set in and I haven't even gotten to the pool fence...it's about to get awkward if I am any hope of getting out of here and hitting the showers, but I surprise my self...

My inner voice: "OK....it's the Fucking Catalina Wine Mixer"

NEKMINNIT..........BIC MAN NINJA (minus the pen)

This basically means I can't lift my hands above my elbows...so in order to turn this red faced, sweat drenched mess into a lady of the corporate world...I need to activate the middle proceedings by bringing my upper body down to the lower body.

Washing your hair entails using the wall to rest your elbows and instead of moving your hands around to get the shampoo frothing...you move your head around like a head banging teen at a Metallica concert.

The application of mascara is somewhat similar... again with the elbow placement this time on the sink or bench... and you just plonk your face in front of the 'wand' and do those long slow blinks like a small puppy staring at your dinner plate.

Yeup...I know right - I've only been up for 3 hours and I am kicking goals like Andrew Johns when he was in form for the blues - you know why....cause it's the Fucking Catalina Wine Mixer!

Warm ReGarts, RG.



B L O O D Y M A R Y's . . . T-Rex moments & a Handful of crutch

MMMM nothing like a Bloody Mary to knock the socks off you in the morning...except... there is no celery stick with the leafy bit no-one eats... it's missing the fiery bite of Tabasco sauce...and SHUT.THE.FRONT.DOOR!!! I care NOT for the lack of vodka here people...

That's right, because I am detoxing thanks to a couple of months with a bunged up jersey-flegg...and this-my friends, is a 'Proud Mary' (put your hand up if you didn't just start singing THAT song in your head .... those with your hand up - it's time to hit the sheds and come back when you are ready to sing THIS: )

OK...no where were we?? That's right NO VODKA.

I don't know if you have cast your eye over my previous blogs... they should be dated over 4 months ago when I decided to become a 'charitable boxer' and by that I mean...offer myself as a human punching bag for a good cause!....In that time I also agreed to RUN for a good cause NEKMINNIT I'm the prime target for an imaginary sniper who took aim at my poor hammie...poor kid didn't stand a chance.

SO.... I recovered slowly and endured many a 'I'm not angry, I'm just dissapointed' head shakes from the coach...and I was back on track POW POW!!!

2 sessions a day - a nutrition plan for a fully fledged athlete, an attitude to kill annndddddd then it was Easter...

NOW...I believe in a philosophy 'Work Hard. Train Hard. Play Hard'  the life balance sorta thing... HOWEVER... this did not mean...'go and have some bevvies with your mates over the Easter long Weekend...then get on a skateboard and shatter your ankle'... again i say-  HOW-EVER.....well pictures tell a thousand words so...

This my friends is a fine example of what I immediately thought was a calf tear... Lucky I didn't pursue that career in physio I had picked out for myself during my years of education...

2 segmented Spiral Fractures.... A clean break (which apparently if I had so much had sneezed, may have come straight through the skin) ...oh and I dislocated it!!

Calf tear...spiral fractures...same same yeah?!

'Work Hard. Train Hard. Play Hard' yeup... I AM AN IDIOT!

So... 2 months down the track, 1 plate and 5 screws, 9 weeks on crutches and a moon boot - I've got hands like a tradey... the physique of a 12 year old stamp collector who has an admiration for the 'finer foods' and a right leg I now refer to as my Ethiopian sponsor child  because she certainly hasn't had the privileges that the left leg has been granted.

Over the last few months I have had times I felt like this T-REX...

 

 

THIS....was a T-REX moment...

BUT... the cast came in handy when presented with the new TV show 'The Voice' .... Hide the singer...if I like them...move the cast!

The Skate board...I also opted not to burn... I used it to deliver food as I was unable to carry meals to my lounge: (Please refer to my T-Rex moment)

I also didn't have to get up to turn lights off...

Sooooo...all in all...I've gained some positives from the experience...and a few extra KG's.... just not for my sponsor child...

SO...here I am...DETOXING! Because I clearly haven't been able to dodge sniper bullets on the Treadmill...Haven't set the world a light with moves to make Tony Hawk Blush annnndddd I have clearly thrown out more puns using the word 'crutch' than you could get a hand on (Yeup...see...I went there...).

So Join me... on the blogging adventures of poor writing...awful puns...sipping on 'Proud Mary's' and saying no to sugar.

BUT we all know I'll get back on the skateboard 'horse'  armed with a stick of celery - Tabasco and Grey Goose...and heaven forbid there is a keyboard standing by!

Warm ReGarts till next time,

RG.

J U S T . L I K E . CC’S . C A N ’ T . S A Y . N O.

J U S T . L I K E . CC’S . C A N ’ T . S A Y . N O.

 

 

 

okkeeeeyyyy Dokey…. so i have a confession to make (which is made obvious by the time stamp on my last post) it has been two weeks since my last injection to tumblr…and lets just say A LOT HAS GONE DOWN!

You will be pleased to know - the sniper has lowered his weapons…and Bambi has started to work out how to untangle her limbs and throw some.straight.up.hay-makers! (anyone else invisiging a brown haired dear with white spots punching the hunter that killed her mum…no…me…neither…jog on)

Anyways…off track I go…I am doing well - the ‘Gary Jack’ is travelling well - the physio is doing less ‘I’m not angry, I’m just dissapointed’ stares at me whilst his elbow is …’elbow deep’… into my poor aching muscles - so that’s a tick right?! RIGHT!

SO - I have decided when the word ‘Corporate’ is added to any training group - it’s just a way of explaining; Neville’s who are forced to get up at sparrows fart because they have to work all the god given hours of sunlight. Who’s with me on that one?

Well my ‘corporate’ gets thrown in before the words ‘Fight Club’ which in turn means “Renee you are going to be THAT derrick that gets outta bed like a ninja - throws hay-makers like Bambi avenging her mums deaths - then has the shakes like Jack in Titanic when that Aussie chick wouldn’t scooch over on that door…” try eating rice with chopsticks when you are in that state! (Dear Coach, if you are reading this..I OBVIOUSLY didn’t eat any carbs - not from lack of trying though - you’re welcome, warm ReGarts RG)

“all in the name of charity….all in the name of charity….all in the name of…RIGHT I GET IT!!!!”

NOW - majority of the people I come across think I’m ….earmuffs… fucking crazy…for saying yes to boxing, but I’m actually loving it - however - then they ask “well when is it?” to which the response is…late May, early June. “Oh, wow…that’s months away”… shit…it is…now, when in this state of mind, it is not advisable to be around anyone that may have other ‘offers’ for you to ‘partake in’ to keep you busy between ‘hot outs’ pun intended for those of you playing along at home.

INSERT All Stars week (NRL Indigenous All Stars) I meet a lovely chap by the name of Hayden Knowles (google him) …long story short in two weeks time he is putting together a 4x100m celebrity challenge infront of the Sydney Track Classic. Now apparently I listen on to his quick proposal like it is a freshly opened bag of CC’s - and well, like their add campaign says- you can’t say no to CC’s!

INSERT KAYNE WEST STYLE INTERRUPTION IN THE FORM OF A NOTE TO SELF:
Dear Renee, imma let you finish… but what the fuck are you thinking?!?! yeah…you USE to partake in little A’s…but you wrapped that up like a burger at kfc when you were 16!….Your hammies have got less stretch in them then a concrete pillar in Rome…but jog on hero…let’s see how this pans out. you’re welcome. warm ReGarts RG.

sooooo imagine the horror on my coaches face when I tell him the predicament a metaphorical bag of CC’s just got me in…time to inject some sprint training into my routine…this really upped the anti in ‘what the fuck are you thinking?’ responses I was already getting from those around me! Care for some CC’s??

So here I am, less then a week out…On Saturday night at 6:30pm at Homebush Olympic Park I will be stepping on to the bright red…rubbery, tartan track…with athletes that will be heading over to London to represent the green and gold like a boss!!…and then there is me…standing shoulder to shoulder with Matt Shirvington, Wendell Sailor…Reidy (Andrew Reid from Bondi Rescue), Freddy Fittler, Mic Vella, Roz Kelly & Erin Molan. we are all going toe-to-toe on the home stretch in the 4x100m….

All in the name of charity…all in the name of charity… (Read more here http://bit.ly/yXRkJQ )
I think the most profound words of enthusiasm came from my old man (Former Manly, Roosters,Balmain and Australian winger & centre - who earned the nick name ‘Frogs eyes’ for the way his eyes bulged out of his head when he hit full stride towards the try line…I in turn inherited ‘Frogs eyes Jnr’)

“You are kidding aren’t you?! Hope you have booked in to see the physio to have your hamstrings tied back together on Sunday. Love you more, DAD”

Thanks Rusty - you Derrick…no really…thanks - I have booked in for when I land back on the Gold Coast AND - I have also taken a firm stance against being around anymore bags of CC’s…
Until next time - you’re welcome. Warm ReGarts. RG.

D A Y t h r e e “Ninja Time-Bambi impersonations-Snipers & Hiccups”

D A Y t h r e e “Ninja Time-Bambi impersonations-Snipers & Hiccups”

 

I am sitting and don’t want to stand up…and when I stand…I don’t want to sit down!

This, my friends…is the predicament I have faced since I took on ‘D A Y o n e’.

That little light goes on in your head after 3 months getting a splinter ass on the bench - you come out of the gates like the ‘donkey’ that pays a tidy sum if she blows the field out of the water on debut…but then she hits that last turn after leading by 3 lengths and blows a gasket…YUP…I.AM.THAT.DONKEY… or I think the better reference here would be ASS!

SO..This ASS…she got through day one and was actually pretty pumped that I got through 80% of the strength side before the ‘Gary-Jack’ got a little upset with me…I was OK with this - it was the first test.

Then we hit the altitude chamber for a solid hit out on the treddy…surprised myself with the fact that I have a fetish for stilettos and the calves were actually managing to allow the heels to hit the ground minus the usual 6inch support.

All in all - high fives were had…coach and I went our separate ways…I hit the dreaded foam roller (we shall now refer to as ‘Foam of Torture’) and WOW…this kid certainly found an extensive vocab…with a wealth of descriptive words!

I thought to myself, just text the boxing coach and say “look, it’s the first week…I’ll just do one session…ease in…don’t want to over cook myself…we have 3 months yet”.

Let’s just say I rehearsed this a couple of times in my head- then i realised A) I hadn’t gotten off the floor since I got home 2 hrs ago, and B) it was now 11pm and too late to text.

5:00am my alarm went off…the only time i use to enjoy seeing that TIME was when I was walking through my front door - pumped I hadn’t been ‘That Girl’ with a pair of high heels in my hand and gotten home before the street cleaners made my stride of pride a little less… well..un-pleasant!
SO..back to what i refer to as NINJA time - because I am generally in slumber and when the alarm goes off, it scares the shit out of me and if anyone was watching me - they would think I had turned into a ninja with how quickly I flung out of bed out with sheer fright! Then I chop-suey the snooze button…

So, I made it to PowPow time, I looked more like Bambi the way my feet and hands got tangled…amazing the skillz you DON’T have when you’re not shadow boxing…on your own…or when you have had a cheeky handful of dutch courage…

Session done - off to work…with every intention of hitting that pavement again that night - however now my calves were gagging for the relief of a 6inch heel…just so they didn’t have to stretch out. My quads now thought it was funny to REFUSE to function when I walked down a set of stairs - and I looked like a sniper had hit me every time i took that first step down.

Yeup…now repeat after me again Renee “All in the name of charity!!” It’s only DAY TWO!!!! I am in deep shit here :)

so…I opt for a healthy chicken sandwich for lunch…I’m on the run and had buckley’s chance of throwing anything else up - slight hiccup…or in this case…ACTUALLY…would you refer to the scene in the exorcist , when she spins her head around vomiting…as a hiccup or…” - well, I kinda became “That Girl”…slight hiccup this food poisoning!

So today - when I woke…I was high fiving the shit out of the hiccups…coz it gave me a spell from lethal Sniper attacks- oh wait…I just got a Facebook alert from my Boxing trainer “INSERT FELLOW TRAINER I CALL NEVILLE” Has declared war on you tomorrow”….now where did I put that chicken sandwich????!!!!!

D A Y o n e (pre)

 

D A Y o n e (pre)

 

40 hr famine [T I C K ]
MS read-a-thon [T I C K ]
Fun Runs [T I C K ]
Outrigging [ T I C K ]
Boxing [… T B C ]

My name is Renee Gartner and I currently work full time with the local National Rugby League team, the Gold Coast Titans, I have also spent some time on the sidelines with Fox Sports and Last year sat on the couch with some top blokes and they referred to it as ‘The League Lounge’.
During my time within the media i have been lucky enough to be involved in some fantastic opportunities and I hope to share some of them with you along the way…but TODAY…well TODAY marks the first day of a charitable commitment I have made…to step inside a boxing ring and throw some hay makers.

All the name of charity right??…yeup…these are the words I will continue to repeat to myself whilst having my backside whipped into shape with Coach Dan (My strength & conditioning coach) and by Johnny & Jamie at the Corporate fightclub.

READ MORE HERE: http://www.dailytelegraph.com.au/sport/david-gallop-signs-new-four-year-contract/story-e6freye0-1226250303981

We’ve all had a stab at read-a-thons, 40hr famines-which I admit…I may have cheated on-but not the point right now - NOW I’m older and wiser and stuff (try not to dwell on the older part) so in this coming of age I have decided to tackle some more physical stuff!

Late last year I stepped into a outrigger and paddled around Sydney Harbour for 3hrs all in the aid of rebuilding the damage from the Tsunami that ravaged Samoa a few years back ( http://www.groundswellbuilds.org.au/ MORE ON THAT LATER) and NOW…imma gonna get my PowPow on…that’s boxing to anyone playing along at home!

So THIS is day one…with the target being either late May or Early June, I will keep you updated with the blood, sweat and tears…and like I said…all in the name of Charity ( 4ASDKids & The Black Dog Institute).

Anywhhoooooo…..don’t expect this blog to be a well written novel displaying profound intellect…like I said in my bio ‘I’m a little left field’ so get your green hat - YOU’RE COMIN WITH! (P.S…I quote movies ALOT….)

Warm Regarts,

RG