The only thing left was to actually move my arse (and the rest of me) and do some exercise. I tried to take advantage of the good weather to get out on long walks with Dom, but he's now at the stage where he'd rather eat his own toes than stay in the pram for more than 5 minutes. Walking at toddler pace probably burns less calories than sitting down eating chocolate, so I needed a new idea. Much as I'd love to go swimming, two jobs, one baby and a house which grabs every opportunity to throw parts of itself on the floor mean I'm very pushed for time, and the thought of having to wash my hair more times than I currently struggle to do in a week was off-putting. Joining a gym was also problematic in the time stakes, to say nothing of the fact that I'd rather set my eyebrows on fire than have other people - fit, thin, healthy people - see me sweat. I needed something I could do at home, with Dom around, in my own time. Hello, Insanity.
A friend recommended starting with the T25 workout instead, which sounded great to me - I pretended it was because of my busy schedule, but actually it was due to my inherent laziness provoking sheer delight at the thought of 15 minutes less of effort. So, after spending a week and a half threatening to do it, tonight I actually got as far as clicking on the link. Here is what I learnt from the experience:
* When getting into your workout clothes feels like a workout, the workout is probably long overdue.
* My sports bra is not the boss of me. It WILL fasten if I shout at it enough.
* Unfortunately, my sports bra is also not the boss of my chest. I need some sort of binding, like buxom ladies in the twenties used to make themselves appear boyish and flat-chested as dictated by the fashion of the time (see, the fashion world have always been gobshites).
* I have no hope of ever achieving an androgynous look. At this point, let's just aim for contained with low chance of concussion.
* Likewise, my bobbles are no match for my hair. Having to pause the video every 2 minutes to scoop up strands of wayward frizz is not making this pass any faster.
* Remember the whole planking craze? Remember how it was mostly youngsters doing it? This isn't, as I thought at the time, because they're the only ones daft enough to do it. It's because they're the only ones fit enough to do it.
* Remember the whole planking craze? Remember how it was mostly youngsters doing it? This isn't, as I thought at the time, because they're the only ones daft enough to do it. It's because they're the only ones fit enough to do it.
* I have no core. There is no point telling me to use something I don't have. The trainer may as well have spent 25 minutes exhorting me to use the million euros under the mattress for liposculpture instead. Lovely as the idea sounds, it's no good to me when it's a figment of someone's imagination.
* Sweating for 25 minutes will not, contrary to my long-held beliefs, actually kill me.
* Sometimes, when sweating for 25 minutes, I wish that sweating for 25 minutes would kill me.
* Stretching is important. Yes, I stretched before and after. No, it wasn't enough. On the plus side, I can see my bedroom from my living room, so crawling back and forth for the next few days shouldn't be too difficult.
* You know those people who say exercise feels good afterwards? They're not lying. The adrenaline rush is great.
* The adrenaline rush is not great enough to make you want to do the dishes when you've finished. Next time, do them first.
I'd continue but I'm about to pass out. That's a good sign, right?
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| See this snuggly guy with the earring? See how sweet he looks? I'm pretty sure I'm going to hate him in the morning. |
1 comment:
Haha haha !! You are funny this sounds like me I have been meaning to do a gym blog for a while. Laughed all the way through this! Xx
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