Let’s be honest, there are those who are just brimming with vitality; they eat the right things, treat their bodies right, and run marathons galore. Well not this wobble-bottom right here, oh no, exercise just does not agree with me at all.
Take my attempts at Spinning Class, now that experience I shall never forget, not only is it engraved for eternity on my mind, but also my lady garden still bears the plough marks to this day! (Padded cycling shorts, wore out the padding quicker than brake linings on Hamilton’s F1 baby).
Jogging?? Seriously? Last time I jogged, there were news reports of tremors of 6.1 on the Richter Scale across Wales and into the Midlands. Now, I am not the most well-endowed of ladies, but Heaven’s above they did give me a good slapping from my kneecaps to my chin folks.
Insanity; I’ve seen you ladies and gents, raring to go but after 30 minutes you are begging for mercy! Now me, I’d rather spur you on whilst eating a chunky kit kat and a mug of tea – get enough exercise lifting that big old pot 100 times a day (yeah baby, check out my teapot lifting biceps). The way I see it, I’m more likely to die exercising than choking on my chocolate bar.
Now, I must admit, I did ask for a weighted Hula Hoop at Christmas (yes, I know, I must have been having a seizure of something), and actually I have still got the knack. One thing I did forget though was that hula hooping in your PJs is not a good idea – the screams could be heard across the valley as the weight circumnavigated my bra-less chest and this daft bugger would not give in until the hoop dropped! A painful lesson in the etiquette and the dangers of the hoop.
Fast and Furious typing is the most energetic I get these days; I have muscles on my knuckles that’s for sure!
Until next time my fellow Kooks, until next time ….