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Thursday, 13 June 2013

Self Inflicted Pain (Pilates Diary, Part 1)

This week I decided to give Pilates a bash. I haven't actually exercised properly in years, and I like my food (when I remember to eat), so my four-pack has gone the way of the dodo. Eating in the UK doesn't help, to be honest; most of the stuff here has enough processed sugar and syrups added to give a small village either a diabetic coma or the mother of all sugar rushes. It's in EVERYTHING. Even worse, to eat healthily costs a bloody fortune. If the government is serious about addressing obesity, they should subsidise healthy foods, instead of quacking on about banning stuff, like overbearing nannies trying to get another headline.
I had a bit of spare money for once, so I bit the bullet and went for the good stuff. So I've been on fresh fruit and salads and home-cooked meals with no shop-bought sauces, and the energy levels are definitely up. However, there is still the matter of bouncing in ways that insult the law of gravity, and since I've got a family wedding coming up, I'd like to not channel my inner-pregnant hobbit look for the photo's. Healthy eating helps, but exercise is the only way to get the flabby bits to stop swaying in the summer breeze.

There are a few pretty good clips on you-tube, so I've come in from work each night, picked a ten minute session, and tried to go along with it. The results have been … erm. Well, this is me.  Overall, it hurts. It's also a lot of fun, and I'm enjoying it, so I'll keep at it and see how it goes. My comfortably round shape feels a little bit firmer, which is what I want, and the hobbit pouch is disappearing, which is what I really want - I've avoided pregnancy for years, so looking like I'm about to give birth is awkward. But today I didn't actually fall over, so I think I'm improving.

Monday resulted in one face-plant, one oh-bugger-there-goes-the-table, one bounce of the wall and a great deal of whimpering. When an exercise is introduced with "This will really test your balance," this is code for "For the love of Cthulhu, don't let Janet try this."

Tuesday we investigated how to become a human pretzel, and discovered the enchanting position of Screaming Beached Whale. The fact that I the Violent Femmes Blister in the Sun running through my head at this point really didn't help.

Wednesday my body was still sulking, and I had to do my assignment for the archeology mini-course I'm doing, so I took that as my rest day. My body said thank you, but I wasn't quite as bouncy today.

Thursday (tonight) we re-discovered the human pretzel, and why accidentally doing the splits is a Bad Thing, at which point Screaming Beached Whale appeared again. I may trade-mark it.