The Case of Thursday's Dinner...

Did my exercise video again on Sunday. God, I’m rubbish. Anyway, I hadn’t eaten anything before I did it – which was at ten past one – it’s not because I’m starving myself – any such attempts have failed within an hour of starting (which I’d say is no bad thing) – it’s because of this damn clock change lark. I slept in – an essential pastime for weekends – otherwise I’d never catch up on any sleep – and that would never do. Anyway, I slept in then lounged on the sofa watching trash on telly for an hour or so, psyching myself up for the exercise video – knowing that the rest of the week had been spent in a slovenly laze of lounging and grazing.

So on goes the video. Even if I do say so myself, I am beginning to get the hang of this Salsa lark (still skipping the Cha Cha Burn and Sambasize – but I resent any implication that this is part-timing), however slightly later on, during he Rhumba, I am stretching my arms – one in the air – one on the ground while at the same time doing a lunge as near to the splits as I can manage, bum in air, peering around to check all curtains really are firmly shut, nothing going through my mind other than ow, ow, ow, I’m in pain, oh, hang on a second – is that a piece of rice from Thursday night’s dinner on the floor? Hmmm… bit peckish, not sure it’s safe to eat three day old rice off the floor… eh, hang on – what have I missed. Oh bugger – she’s already done her other leg and has started on large arm circles.

The moral is, as Nancy said “Never exercise on an empty stomach” (actually, Nancy applies the empty stomach rule to sleuthing rather than exercising – but come on – I think you’ll agree that sleuthing and exercising are, at the very least, distant cousins).