We're back to snow again this morning. Not a return to Narnia, but cold and white and not enticing and Christmassy in the least.
I've taken to doing a bit of exercise indoors (no don't be silly, nothing like that, after all I would need Mr Depp for that sort of thing, and I believe he's busy right now…) to break up the monotony of running in the rain and cold.
I have invested in (yet another) exercise dvd. Ain't I the sucker, come January whenever the celebrities don the lycra for their latest fitness module, there I am drooling over the racks in Tescos wondering which person I could possibly look like if only the dvd would sort of morph all over me without me actually doing anything physical.
I swithered with Nadia Sawalha then decided to go for the "Ten Minute Fat Buster" instead. Much though I love Nadia and am impressed with her weightloss and new figure. The words fat buster and ten minutes grabbed me as did the price being half of hers.
The lithesome lady on film is very good at her stuff. She maintains that big smile and confident chatter throughout. The fact that I cannot breath in some of the positions is surely testament to the woman's fitness and her rightness for the job.
"For this one you'll need your weights, so have them ready" – my weights, aha, I have weights, I have trendy little hand weights bought about three years ago in another burst of exercise enthusiasm – hmmmmm now where are they? Retrieve weights from dining room where they have held the kitchen door open for those aforementioned three years.
She who must be obayed says I should hold weights in hands and force them down on thighs as I try to raise thighs off the floor. I am having enough trouble raising feet far less thighs, this is just adding insult to injury.
I did the dvd first time on Friday. I think the fact that I couldn't make it upstairs for a bath that night is testament to the fact that I must have been doing something in the stretchy, worky muscly way. The fact that I couldn't move all weekend only serves to show me that my thinking a run in the country has me fit is something of a joke.
The weather has been bad this week so I've tackled this dvd another three times. So far my language seems to be the only thing that is getting a workout. I shriek and swear and mutter and groan as I do yet another lunge while forcing my leg down with the bloody weight that was far better suited to being a doorstop than an instrument of torture.
But the good news is that I can now do the workout now and make it upstairs for a bath and bed at the end of the day. Great that I haven't had to relocate to the ground floor totally in my search for a better bod.
So I'm off now to roll out my yoga mat (oh yes I've got a yoga tape too you know) and reach for the doorstops (hand weights) and glue that smile on my face. Will I do all five of the ten minute sections (you know you should) or will I knock off after two, shower and head for the coffee shop and a good moan with Lis.
Lis wins hands down!