Today, I have done a dreadful thing. I joined the gym this afternoon (that is not the dreadful thing - clearly for a fat dollop who is not planning on walking down the aisle as a hippo bride, that is a good thing). After joining the gym, I did a spot of exercise. It was awful. I was awful.
Last time I lived in London, I went the the gym at least three or four times a week. I was quite good at the gym. I am now rubbish. I did ten minutes on the cross trainer and fifteen minutes on the bike, followed by a few leg weights and crunches. After the 25 minutes of cardio, I found myself sweating like a piece of cheese in the midday sun. Disgusting. I only did the weights because I felt like people would notice what a paltry workout I'd done if I didn't manage to stay there longer than 25 minutes (and also because there was more air conditioning in the weights area).
Far from feeling better after going to the gym, I felt decidedly worse, because I was so rubbish at it. Which is why I decided to do the dreadful thing. I decided to stand in front of the bathroom mirror and take pictures of myself - front, back and sides - in only my knickers and sports bra. I dedided to do this awful thing, becuase I figured seeing this horrific sight was probably what I needed to do to show myself exactly how bad the situation was.
It worked. I have booked myself an apointment tomorrow at 11am with some sort of trainer at the gym (free of charge, thank god, because the monthly gym membership fee is a clear exercise in extortion). Tommy's his name. I cannot pretent to be anything other than terrified given today's poor (and sweaty) perfomance. I will report back.
(I am not just randomly taking pictures of myself for interest by the way - the intention is to take more over the next couple of months and hopefully see some improvement - no doubt I shall also be reporting back on that too).
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