Sunday, 14 June 2009

It's A Fit Up (Or, how to start a fitness routine in 9 short months)

October 2008
Re-start Yoga in attempt to re-find myself (find self under the flab rather than spiritually).

November 2008
Stop yoga (too much self-frottage for my liking).

Go on holiday and eat ever increasing body-weight in truffley pasta.

December 2008
Weigh more than ever. Think about joining the gym. Reject it on financial grounds.

Spend Christmas with in-laws. Mother-in-law approaches feeding in the classic wee wifey tradition of all the Scotches. Typical post three course dinner conversation:
“Now. What’ll you have?”
“Oh nothing thanks, I’m stuffed”
“What about a bit of cake, or fruit? I have kiwi … orange … or biscuits, try one of these lovely chocolate ginger biscuits I bought.”
“No, no, really. I can't”
“Or a tea? Mint, camomile, normal ...”
“Oh, OK I’ll have a tea”
“Do you want a wee biscuit with that? Or a bit of cake …” (Repeat ad infinitum).

January 2009
Purchase new sports bra and more flattering (read: larger) gym trousers.

Discover I have at least 6 months before I’m going to get pregnant decide I should really use this time to get fit. All I need is a strategy …

Feb 2009
… still thinking hard about fitness possibilities.

March 2009
Have eye operation am told not to swim for a month. Take ‘swimming’ to encompass all types of exercise.

April 2009
Discover fantastic long term solution to avoid gym but get fit. Spend equivalent of a month and a half’s gym membership on new shoes that promise to make me walk like an African warrior simultaneously allowing me to stand tall and tone every muscle from my stomach downwards .

Problem: they are fucking ugly. And not in a 'so bad they are good' way (see gladiator sandals). In a "I am a teenage Emo with green hair who thinks that thick soled black shoes will be an outward manifestation of the abject loneliness and rejection of society that I feel". Every time I wear them I feel like I have to apologise for submitting any by-passer to such a vile vision.

They don't get out much.

May 2009
Holiday. Swim three lengths of pool in villa. Exercise curtailed by gecko deciding it wanted to swim with me, burrowing into my bikini and precipitating the fastest 5 meter swim sprint I have ever managed. Feel disinclined to repeat the process.

Struck down with the plague. Short of breath, too ill to exercise. Whilst at Doctors have blood pressure taken am told it looks a bit high. Get worried.

June 2009
Another night on my arse, laptop on knee, notice stomach is spilling onto lap top.

That's not right.

mid-June 2009
Join gym.

Yup, the expensive one. I could find cheaper but they are further away than the gold-plated version and any additional barrier I put in the way of going is another cream cake on the table of weight gain. Also this one has a pool and swimming is about the only form of exercise I actually enjoy tolerate.

Using the scales in the gym I discovered that I am a stone lighter than I thought I was. I credit this extraordinary weight loss to a combination of: my sister's dodgy scales (I don't allow scales in my house); only weighing myself in the evening on said scales when I go round to hers; loss of appetite during the plague. Don't get me wrong I am still a stone heavier than I'd like but not the two stone I feared. Bit of a relief really as I was starting to worry I was suffering from body dysmorphia - believing myself to be two stone over weight but still feeling pretty good about myself when I prance round the flat in my smalls.

So I swam twenty lengths before the combination of leaky goggles and coughing at the end of each length forced me to give up. But it is a start, right?

I'm now taking bets in the comments section on how long you reckon this will last.


  1. Well, if it were would last about a week, lol.

  2. You never know. According to the dates mentioned on this post, you can actually time travel ;-)

    I give you until a fortnight ago ;-)

  3. Sorted no one need ever know, eh Mick?

  4. 'fraid so...Time flies, doesn't it?

    Stick at it though. I literally 'force' myself to go to the gym three times a week.

    I hate it with a passion.

  5. That all sounds a lot like me. Or at least until the part about the gecko. Seriously in your swim suit?? Yikes. I like lizards and all but I think I'd draw the line with that.

  6. You go girl!
    Swimming is also the only sport I enjoy, but the inhibitor is *getting there*. Even though we only live a stones through from the beach, it's not a beach that make you want to go for a swim (think mangroves and mud).

  7. Sounds like me! :) I'm not even going to wager on how long, because I know that even thinking about how soon I'll give up makes me want to just give up now and get it over with. Wishing you luck!

  8. I definitely couldn't face joining a gym. Not now, I would feel too old and spend the whole time envyingly looking at all the young, fit girls. I'll give you three weeks!

  9. sounds so familiar......expept mine goes more like....feel bad that I am fat and eat a bag of chips to feel better. So not betting on how long you will last, thats dangerous!

  10. stick with swimming... it's the least tormenting form of exercise in my book.
    I'd love to see a pic of those emo exercise shoes...

  11. related-ish.... About two years ago I decided to take swimming lessons, you know, to splish splash with the billinos of kids we were going to spit right out there and then, but they hunted me away.

    No lessons for adults.

  12. Gym? What's that? Oh wait, that place you go to to keep your legs toned and fit...once you stop going they start looking like a deflated balloon.I feel you, I really do...I reckon you'll enjoy the swimming during the summer,so that part will stay on your list for a while ;)

  13. Yeah. That's how I exercise too.

    The fact I've lost weight over the past couple of months fills me with astonishment, because, really, the amount of times I've sat on a bus thinking 'I could have walked to the station, you know. Whoops,' is just embarrassing.

  14. I didn't inivte the geko in Batty

    Corymbia, you're just trying to make me jealous now ...

    Lea, thanks for the luck, I need it.

    Ever the optimist Secret D, actually three weeks might be about right judging how I feel four days in.

    But how long do you feel better for? Paint it Black

    YOu ain't seeing the shoes Chelsea (Unless you want to google: MBT)

    I blame the Irish education system, Xbox, the husband primary schooled in Ireland. He managed his 15m badge but has never swum further.

    Yeah, that is the place, leo.

    It is clearly mind over matter, Nuts.


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