After the weekend’s spectacularly awful attempt to run
Date submitted: 10 September 2008
Submitted by: overeater_underrated
off my hangover, I approached Monday night’s spinning class with extreme caution. Would I tumble feebly from my bike under the frankly terrifying glare of the instructor? As it turns out, I was a champion on the spinning bike! Not sure where it came from (maybe the M&S mini flapjacks I’d munched at work?) but I was racing up those pretend hills like Lance Armstrong after a several litres of Sunny-D. I felt like I should have been awarded Olympic gold at the end of it. My achievement did mean I suffered from a terrible bout of gym goer’s smugness as I watched all the other poor souls sweating and red-faced, five minutes into their Stairmaster hell. I’m sure that’ll be me this time next week so in the meantime I’m going to gloat in my tiny achievement.
I spent much of the weekend in a hungover fug
Date submitted: 08 September 2008
Submitted by: overeater_underrated
after over doing the celebrations at a friend’s engagement party. Lying on the sofa in front of Guy and Dolls eating toast and drinking tea did little to combat the nausea so I thought a detoxing run might do the trick. At first my cunning plan to out run my pounding head seemed to be working, but half way round my stomach started to turn to mush just as my aching legs began to give way. Thinking I was going to drop dead, or even worse, throw up in front of a handsome dad and his small son, I collapsed on the park bench, attempting to look like I’d just completed a 10k run. And then it started to rain and I limped home, my head still pounding as I fell straight back onto the sofa. Ouch!
The autumnal chill (and all that rain)
Date submitted: 06 September 2008
Submitted by: overeater_underrated
has sent my exercise regime back inside. I dusted off my gym pass for a spinning class that was every bit as terrifying as I remember it. My legs were like jelly after 45 punishing minutes on the bike with an instructor who must have recruited directly from Alcatraz. Still, despite being unable to walk, the endorphins put a rather wobbly smile on my face and after scrutinising myself in the mirror I convinced myself that my thighs were a little more toned than yesterday. The Boy, after only minor prompting, seemed to agree.