My Headspace Needs an Interior Designer

Eurovision result was a bit disappointing, wasn't it?  Where were the spangly gays and sexed up "traditional" costumes that I've come to expect and love?  If it weren't for this parody by the presenters, I'd have had a right cob on:

Amazing.  Actually amazing.

Only fault I can find with it is that I now get the lyric "and a man in a hamster wheel!" popping into my head at inopportune moments.

Other stuff has happened in the ENTIRE MONTH I've not blogged (oops).  I made this clever decision:

 

Sheet saan!

My thought process went something along the lines of

 "I've recently watched the London marathon and quite fancy being able to tell people that I've run two full marathons in my lifetime.  I have less free time than I used to and my weird, ankle/foot pain thing never totally went away.  It's blatantly a terrible idea to train for another, but if I get a place via the ballot, it's obviously meant to be and will be super easy and fun silly times because marathons are famous for how easy they are. Yup, this is sensible!" 

I'm not entirely certain what I want the outcome to be.  My fate is in Richard Branson's hands.  He seems to largely know what he's doing, so I'm hopeful that he won't fuck me over.  Good old Ritchy B.

Another thing that's happened is that I've largely been stressed.  Nothing major, just that underlying, anxious buzz that comes not having enough hours in the day or enough metaphorical hands to juggle...life...stuff with...like a...ah, I'm sure I had a good metaphor to start with there but it's gone now.  Take my word for it that it was insightful and wittily creative, 'kay?  Usually, I just let the stress build up into a grand crescendo, where I bite the heads off anyone with in a 3 mile radius of me for a few days and then break down sobbing when A asks me to put the kettle on because I CAN'T DO EVERYTHING, OKAY?!!  I took a different approach this time.  I invested in a meditation app called Headspace.

If you've not heard of it, it's basically a collection of 10-20 minute sessions, where a nice sounding chap called Andy guides you through various mental exercises that help you learn to chill out and see your emotions from a different perspective.  He sets you up in the bird watching shed in your brain and lets you objectively watch the greater spotted tit that is your emotional self from a distance.  I've been doing it for about 20 days on the trot now, and I do feel a bit more rational and less like I'm going to set fire to my head and aggressively do the Macarena round my local Tesco in my pants.  Whether it's giving me a better perspective on things remains to be seen, but it is nice sitting still for a little chunk of day and just being for a bit.  It's essentially napping without napping.  Okay, sometimes it turns into napping.

Using Headspace has taught me a few things.  One of which is that proper relaxation is so alien to me that whenever I open my eyes at the end of a session, I feel like I've been mildly roofied and it takes me a while to come back to reality.  Another is that I'm completely incapable of counting up to ten with my eyes shut without my brain going off on a little holiday of its own accord.  Here are some thoughts I recall from a few of these trips down the rabbit hole of my head:

1.  My nose is itchy.  Am I allowed to scratch, or does that lose me zen points? Okay, ignore it.  Do not think about the itchy nose.  Think instead about the...why is my head itchy now?  Am I being devoured by fleas?  OH MY GOD, MY SKIN IS TURNING INSIDE OUT AND I WILL DIE OF DISCOMFORT, I HAVE TO SCRATCH!! I scratched.  I have let myself and nice Andy man down.  I will never reach Nirvana.

2.  "...Here we are now, entertain uuuus..."

3.  I really should learn more than one line to that "I took a pill in Ibiza song."  Drives me batshit hearing one line over and over again in my head.

4. "I took a pill in Eeebeeetha...."

5.  Someone is watching me.  Mustn't open my eyes. Concentrate.  Concentrate.  But what if A has a camera and he posts me doing this on Facebook? Maybe just take a peek...okay, we're good.  One breath, two breaths...okay, someone is definitely watching me now.

6.  Did I just fall asleep?  I definitely blacked out for at least a minute there.

7.  One, two, banana, three, four, suitcase, nine, six, trombone, one... Wait, what?

Bongos.  Is it normal to discover the fountain bit of the intro from Friends waiting behind your eyelids when you shut your eyes?  I haven't watched Friends for months.  Hee.  Friends.

9.  Oh my God, I've just had such a good idea for a novel!

Chihuahua.  What was my idea again?  How have I forgotten it?  I thought of it eight seconds ago!

1.  I should totally spend my savings for a house on another tattoo.  It's an investment. 

2.  One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, oh my God, I made it up to seven without losing my train of thought, I'm so proud of myself!  I'm gonna have a really nice snack after this to celebrate with jam on and... ahh bollocks!! One, two...

Spacehopper.  "I took a pill in Eebeeeeetha...dobeedobee dooo de doo de doo..."

4.  "...AND A MAN IN A HAMSTER WHEEL!"

Yeah, I think I might need a bit more practice before I become a superhero ninja monk , but at least I no longer want to bash myself over the head with a frying pan like I'm playing both of the lead characters in Bottom.  I'm off to Google song lyrics now for my own sanity.

Love love, peace peace.

Marathon Training Week 7/ SUGAR!!! OMIGOD, SUGAR!!!!

7 weeks in! Ermagerd, shit's getting really, REALLY real! I'm actually going to have to do this thing, aren't I?  Without much further ado, please observe a glorious week in which I followed my training plan to.  The.  Letter.  Oh.  My. Gawd (lookat. Her. Butt*):

Mon    Restful day of resting (so restful)
Tues   5 miles
Weds  Who am I to resist a-rest (haw haw)?
Thurs 3 miles & Crossfit, during which I learned I can now fling 25kg onto my shoulders easily! Rejoicing!
Fri     4 miles
Sat  Stag do/dancing at an Irish bar induced hang over. Rest day
Sun   Penultimate Run Like a Ninja & 14 MILES!!!

Furthest I have ever-ever-ever-ever run!  And it was enjoyable!  Ninja lesson of the day was about getting cadence (the optimum number of steps to take per second while running = approx 3, or 180 beats per minute).  I learned that as long as my feet hit that ideal 1-2-3 rhythm, I could control my speed by either zipping my ankles higher up my legs to go faster, or by keeping my feet close to the floor for a low 'n' slow pace.  The way I run has completely changed over the last few weeks; for the better.  Zero injuries, and thanks to more frequent walk breaks (still getting used to not berating myself for having to do this and accepting that it's a better method of running long distance for me), I'm remembering to enjoy myself.  Plus, I'm still weirdly faster the more often I let myself have walk breaks.  Maybe if I walk the marathon, I'll win? Haz I dun a logick?

My epically tanned and muscular calves after 14 fun solo miles, 

because after 14 miles, my face wasn't prepared to be photographed.

Cameras have yet to have red-face reduction as well as red eye.

Aaand this week's plan is all going to go to shit because I've signed up to my first ever obstacle course, which falls on a rest day (Saturday).  It's the Margam Invncbl run.  6 miles, 20-something obstacles and a whole heap o' mud!  Have discovered that there are electric shocks at one point along the course.  I may or may not be sitting in soiled pants as I type.  I HATE electric shocks!!  I get pissy enough when I get static shocks off of shopping trollies.  Keep an eye out for a 5ft3 She-Hulk on the news.  I don't know how rage-y more than a little static is likely to make me.  If I even do that part of the course.  But there is a medal and a t-shirt, so no backing out now.  I have a pretty new shiny to collect, G-D it!

Clicky here to laugh at what I'm going to be putting myself through on the day. 

Runnin' done for this post.  Main topic I'm going to cover today was brought on by a conversation I had with the osteopath I met through Outcast CrossFit and who is doing a damn good job of making sure I don't make any of my own limbs fall off from over use during training (Swansea Body Kinetics - Rosie Jones).  Turns out we are both frequent sugar giver-uppers/binge consumers.  My attitude to sweets/cakes/other delicious things that make my brain light up like a Catherine wheel is well summed up by a Mark Twain quote I saw somewhere about his smoking habits:

 “To cease smoking is the easiest thing I ever did. I ought to know because I’ve done it a thousand times.”

I give up sugary treats every single day I when I wake up. Granted, it's not a habit akin to smoking in the eyes of most (especially if you are smoking in the eyes of most.  People don't like that, apparently), but I really believe that my addiction to the sweet stuff is just as intense, and can be just as damaging to our health in the long term.  I've read enough about it** to know why I shouldn't be eating Maoams at every meal.  Some examples of what excessive amounts of sugar can do to you:

• Fatty liver
• Fat and triglycerides in the blood
• Visceral fat
• All of the above can contribute to heart disease
• Damages collagen (translates: makes you prematurely look like a well used handbag)
• Over time makes you increasingly resistant to insulin, causing you to be at higher risk for diabetes.

 My logical Cleverbrain knows that if I keep eating nutritionally void party foods on the daily, I am likely to become a diabetic thirty year old who looks like she should have a bus pass and is one trifle away from an Elvis style heart attack on the bog.  No person wants that for themselves.  Nope.  No quick rush of "weeh, this is nice!" is worth it.  Cleverbrain also knows that nice things happen when I give up sugary snacks, because it's helped me try do it enough times.  When I'm off the Devil's granules,

• I'm more awake because I'm not in a WEEEEE!...zzzz...AAAAGH!!!...zzzz....WEEEEH!! cycle of peaks and crashes in my alertness.
• I'm a nicer person to be around because I'm less crazy from the merry-go-round of energy levels and spiking emotions.
• My brain feels less foggy.  Probably because it's not filled with bits of Fruit Pastille.
• I get physically leaner very quickly. I'm not too bothered about my weight, but it is easier to do my runs without little functionless almost-saddlebags that I can't even carry my loose change in.

 Of course I'm always going to want sugar.  Because frankly, it's fucking delicious. But it does bug me that all of my reasoning and good intentions to give myself a better chance at carving myself an independent and healthy old age is ruined by Cleverbrain's nemisis, the evil Professor Shitforbrains, who frequently turns up in my mind like an obese, grabby-handed child with chocolate on its face going 

MORE!!!!! I NEED MORE SUGAR NOW OR NO MORE THOUGHTS ABOUT ANYTHING USEFUL OR NON EDIBLE FOR THE REST OF THE DAY! HAHAHAHA GIVE ME HARIBO OR DIE AN UNPRODUCTIVE DEATH!!!

I don't get it.  How have humans evolved to think for themselves, and at the same time be contantly overruled by destructive impulses "just because it's nice and I want it, I want it now!"?  I understand that in the grand scheme of things, my "problem" isn't a problem anywhere near the scale of those experienced by people suffering with genuinely life ruining habits, but it is something I've grappled with for years.

Rosie the Magical Osteopath (sorry, Rosie, I've made you sound like a character off Playdays!  Send Why Bird and Poppy the cat my regards) made the point that maybe the reason that sugar is so easy to binge on is exactly that.  There's no sudden danger or deterioration while you're "on" it, and no dramatic comedown to put you off having more.  The negative effects are more long term, silent and creeping, which is ominous enough, but nothing like the shock of seeing a picture of a burnt up lung on a packet of Lambert & Butler.

Maybe after the marathon, I'll set myself a project to ease my dependance on sugar out of my life.  For now, I just wanted to get the topic out of my head, because it's been bugging me for a while.

Apparently I have a comments doohicky on this thing that I seldom mention/use.  Let me know - is your consumption of sugar something that bugs you, too?  Or am I alone here under my pile of Drumsticks and Sherbert Dip Dabs?

Also phwoar.  Do Sherbert Dip Dabs still exist??

*Apologies if, like me, you now can't get Nicki Minaj's manic giggles out of your head from that surreal version of Baby Got Back she did either.  "EhhhhHAHAHAHAH!!!"

** Two really good reads to get you started if interested: That Sugar Book - Damon Gameau and Sweet Nothing - Nicole Mowbray

Let's Take This Outside...or...Why I Hate The Gym

Been a bit sluggish on the post front lately.  Apologies.  I fully blame my sister for introducing me to Girls (TV series, not potential same-sex mates).  My need for this programme is so all-encompassing that I just watched a full episode in between writing this sentence and the one before it.  I cannot be helped.

Sorry, another one happened.  

What was I going to write about?  

Oh, yeah. I went to the gym this week! *muffled fanfare*  

I hated it.  HATED it.  You know when once in a while, you go to an old haunt you frequented in your teen years because it was the only place in town that served booze to minors?  

Yeah, you doooo, don't give me that!  

Well, the gym reminded me of that kind of nostalgia.  You think it'll be fun.  That because you enjoyed it sooo much when you used to go there (at least you think you enjoyed it, otherwise why did you spend every weekend there?), then why don't you still go there now? 

And then you go.  And then you remember why you don't go there now.

Reason I went was because it was especially crappy outdoors, and I had ten miles that needed bashing out at some point this week.  Plus, I'd started my annual weighing up of the pros and cons about getting a membership for doing that cross training thing that I've heard so much about.  

Now, I don't want to offend any gym worshipers - I appreciate that the gym is a haven for many, and a social hub, and I admire your dedication and willpower for going regularly, but Christ, I found it frustrating to be there!  

I went along with a friend who had the same mileage to do.  For the duration of our visit, he happily bounced the miles away on the treadmill, whereas I rage-quit after half an hour (an impressive feat for me - I wanted to break the machine apart with my bare hands after ten minutes), and then half heartedly played on some machines I'm not even sure that I used correctly.

Aforementioned friend found me two hours later, sadly pedaling away on a stationary bike and starting listlessly into my Kindle.

Karl Pilkington - The Moaning Of Life, if interested.

I want to leave myself a list of reasons here of why I hate the gym, so I can avoid further bouts of murder-rage should I begin to entertain the idea of signing up again.  

So. 

 Dear future Becky:

1.  Repeatedly doing the same movement over and over whilst not going ANYWHERE makes your body angry with you, the world and everybody in it.  YOU ARE NOT A HAMSTER.  You do not require a hamster wheel.

2.  People don't like it when you start watching them because you are not moving ANYWHERE and therefore have no scenery to take in.  They do not understand that the reason behind your stares is that you want something, anything to look at that's not a wall or a frosted window.  They think you are judging them/ogling their goodies. 

3.  You don't know how 90% of the machines work.  And yes, you do look like a knob trying to figure it out just because you're too much of a proud wussy to ask the nice staff.  That thing you used to make your arms hurt a bit?  Probably for toning your butt, or face, or something.  Just give up.

4.  It frustrates and irritates you that you have zero control over what music they play in there and that every music video that matches the songs on the TV screens boasts body shapes that you will never obtain, even if you lived in the gym and lived off protein shakes and awesomeness for the whole year.  Even if you lost all of your body fat and got hair extensions, you still won't be Iggy Azalea (sp?!), because you are five foot three and she has at least sixteen feet's worth of legs... Measurement feet, not actual.  Although exotic, Iggy Azalea is not many legged spider creature.

5.  The weights area will always terrify you.  You will hover around its boundaries, wimp out, and then stare wistfully at it as you sadly toil away on the rowing machine until the clicking in your knees drives you mental.

There.  Hopefully that will save future me some time and money.  

Went for a ten miler today in weather ten times worse than what it was on the fateful gym night.  

The wind was howling, the sky was grey and it intermittently hailed and rained.  My feet kept feeling like they were being blown out from underneath me.  I had to actually climb over a fallen tree to keep going along the route I'd chosen, and several people made a point of pointing out how deranged I was for bimbling around in it.  

And I LOVED it!  A normal long run became an obstacle course, and because I was unsure of my footing, splashing through puddles (weee!), and had to keep an eye out on where my feet were landing, the time flew.  And I even got some extra distance in when my hat blew away a couple of times.

And that's another thing.  This was the first run I've ever worn a hat during - It was a revelation!  I had no idea that being buffeted in the face by rainwater and hail was optional.  Hurrah for peaked hats!

I know everyone's different, and they enjoy to exercise (or not - that's okay too.  I love a sofa as much as, if not more than anyone.  S'up, sofa surfers! *poorly executed gang sign*) in a way uniquely preferable to them.  And I reckon it's not until you try something that you hate with so much fervor that it actually gives you energy that you figure out what it is that you really, really like doing.  And I really, really like putting my stretchy pants on and lolloping off out the door and pounding the pavements, whatever the weather.  

Bring it on, wind! I don't fear you anymore!!




.....I really hope that someone skim reading this post doesn't think it's about my heroic conquering of flatulence.  That's another post entirely.

25 Wise, Wise Wisdoms

As of tomorrow, I will have been a resident of planet Earth for 26 whole years.  I think I've done well to have not fallen down a manhole, or walked under a falling piano yet, and I fully believe that this deserves presents and flattery.  I'm quite the over achiever.

I've picked up a lot of info over the past just-over-quarter century.  Some of it useful. Most of it uselessly specific.

e.g, thanks to Tumblr, I now know that the best way to get away with murder is by having an icicle as your weapon of choice, as the evidence conveniently melts after said murder-doing.  

Don't cross me, World.  I have a collection of razor sharp Tip Tops in my arsenal.

...So, I thought to myself this morning:  "What better way to mark my crossing over into the second quarter of my life (I plan to live to bang on 100 and yes, fuss arses out there - I know that technically I entered my second quarter century when I hit 25.  Shut up), than to make a list of all the brilliant things I've soaked up so far?  That way, people will know that my vacant stare is more to do with my actual face that my lack of useable wisdom!"  Here is, then.  Prepare to be amazed!

1.  People don't like it when you bite your toenails off in front of them.  They don't even look mildly impressed at how bendy you are.

2.  Cats will never love you as much as you love them.

3.  Dinosaurs aren't coming back.  Get over it.

4.  Moving around is actually really rewarding, and helps keep the crazies under control. Running equals =D as opposed to #!!?**=(///#XP!!....

5.  People who regularly feel the need drop into conversation how nice/fun/"random" they are, are generally the total opposite and you should run very, very far away.

6.  The least flattering pyjamas are also guaranteed to be the most comfortable.  That shapeless, fluffy potato sack you bought on a whim?  The one with the cats on that makes you look like you have no boobs and four arses?  Put it on and I dare you not to immediately nap in it with a smile on your face.

7. Sober nights in playing scrabble and shouting at Take Me Out because "Look at that guy's stupid face!  It's so stupid!" are often way more enjoyable than getting obliterated and then throwing up your memories of that "great night out" the next morning.

8.  EVERYTHING costs money.  Lots of money that you don't have.

9.  Spiders bigger than your face, sitting nonchalantly on your head are fine.  Jellyfish on your TV screen will one day figure out how to break through the glass and attach themselves to your face.  It will happen.

10.  Seagulls are bastards.

11.  You should never take family for granted.  Especially when they always have food and offer to do your laundry.  They do want to cater to your every whim.  Honest.

12.  Love is comfort and the freedom to be yourself at all times.  Even if that means letting your significant other observe the fact that you short circuit when you try to eat and chat at the same time.  For the last time, I didn't pee myself, it was the sauce the mushrooms were in!!

13.  If you obsess over all the bad stuff that's going to happen to you, it's more likely to happen.  Blind optimism is preferable.  And if that doesn't work out, at least you can always blog about the shitty stuff in a bid for pity lolz.

14.  Unless you pay a man with a knife lots of money, you will always look like you.  A you that can be bigger or smaller, but still you.  So you'll have to make do! - Dr Suess (not really)

15.  You rhymes with You.

16.  Unless you are actually Beyonce, you will never be Beyonce.

17.  Humour and sarcasm trump any other kind of response.  Unless someone's just told you someone's died.  In which case, probably plump for sincerity.

18.  You don't need to impress people with your job role.  As long as you're happy with what you're doing to turn productivity into food, fuck everyone else.  Especially people with really cool jobs.  Fuck 'em. Fuck 'em in their smug little faces.

19.  Bit of a cliche - but nothing worth having comes easy.

20.  People who don't appreciate Monty Python are confusing to be around.

21.  Diets don't work.  Not eating Haribo and battenburg with every single meal does. Fascinating.

22.  Never try to second guess anything important.  You're probably wrong.  

23.  If you really, really wanted to be doing the thing, you'd be doing the thing.  Not just talking about how one day, you'd really, really like to do the thing, but you haven't got enough time/money/inspiration.

24.  You will never be free of the clutches of the internet.

25.  You haven't checked Facebook for five minutes.  Better check Facebook.


And there we have it!  A quarter century well lived, I think!  In my next, I hope to learn lots more stuff, like how to not wait until my house covered in a thick layer of dust and carpet fluff before I clean it.  And what the secret is of people my age who already own their own house while I'm still bloody renting off a lady who won't even let me have a cat.  Maybe I'll even figure out how to cross number 16 off the above list and actually become Beyonce.  Who knows.

Happy Sunday to you and happy almost-birthday to me!

Not that I'm milking it.

PRESENTS!!!

Here is a classy picture of me from last year's birthday festivities for you to enjoy.

The Seven Signs Of Stress

This week has been nothing short of hellish.  And it's only Monday.

Part of my role in my sometimes-mentioned office job is sales-based, and I've been doing lots more of that side of things while a few of the other sales-trained bods are off on holidays being all fabulous and tanned (bastards! I hate you and your stupid bikinis!  I hope you get weird tan lines!).  

I'm convinced that all of our customers have waited until we have the fewest number of staff in as possible to pounce, hungrily demanding our wares and services.  This suddenly enthused mob of customers  wanting to throw money down our phone lines is great for business, but not so great for the individuals such as myself who find themselves having to up their multi tasking level a few hundred notches higher than they're used to.  I feel I have all the arms of an Indian Goddess but not enough functioning brain cells to keep them all in check. 

I'm sure I'll get used to it, and being busy doesn't half make the day fly and get the heart rate up,  but this level of busy has been going on for about a fortnight now, and I feel like I'm teetering on the edge of acceptance and adaptation...or full-blown mass-murderer mode.  I am this close to pummeling my telephone into smithereens with my bare fists and snapping the receiver's cord with my teeth.

As you can see, it takes a while for my stress levels to normalize.  But it's been sort of fun in a ha-ha-ha-I'm-going-to-run-naked-into-the-street-with-my-pants-on-my-head-and-set-myself-on-fire kind of way to take note of the indicators I experience when I'm either starting to get stressed or when 'm already full-on, wide-eyed, tooth-baring, hair-pulling burnt out.


1.  Denial - If I know it's going to be a busy day, I will always start optimistically.  Start as I hope to go on.  I'll take things one thing at a time.  I can't do two things at once, so I'll get each thing out of the way to the best of my abilities and holy fucking shit is that the time already?? Shit shit shit!! Why is there paper in my hair?? Whose phone number is this on my hand, and why is my biro in my mouth, nib-side up?!  Did I remember to get dressed this morning?!

2.  Bladder Freakouts - I don't know if this is a fight or flight thing, but the more pressure I'm under, the more often I have to pee.  The it-hurts-when-I-breath type of needing to pee.  Which only make the stress worse, because on top of my list of impossibly numerous tasks, I have to make time to do frequent mad dashes to the loo.  I like to think it's my body's way of telling me to sit the fuck down and chill out for a second.  There's only so much you can do with your pants around your ankles.

3.  Aggressive Kindness -  This is where all my attempts to be a rational, helpful salesperson takes a nosedive, and, being a Brit brought up on the importance of politeness, instead of being rude, I just get scarily and loudly helpful when I pick up the receiver. "HelloRebeccaspeakingHOWCANIHELPYOU?!!! WHAT? YOU WANT TO BUY SOMETHING?! YES, I CAN HELP, HAHAHAHA WE'RE BEST FRIENDS NOW!! DON'T HANG UP ON ME, I NEED YOU!!!! ...hello?  Mrs Johnson, are you still there?"

4.  Aggressive Clumsiness -  As my mind is flashing all kinds of funky disco colours in my skull trying to make note of the fact that I need to be doing this that and the other as fast as yesterday, physical co-ordination is the first thing to go.  It's not unusual for me to leave work with a myriad of mysterious cuts, beverage stains and the odd bruise from picking up the phone with such force that I hit myself in the face with it.

5.  Feral Breaktimes - I get a half hour break for food.  I love strapping in to food bag at the best of times, but on a manic day, you realize just how short time is and eat with a terrifying frenzy, throwing food somewhere near your mouth in the hope that some of it will go in, reducing interaction with colleagues to the occasional glare to make sure they're not planning on stealing the processed meat that's sliding down your chomping chin.

6.  Blind Agreement -  
"Becky, did you do the-"
"YES! I am doing it!!"
"Have you-"
"YES, I have!"
"Do you-"
"YES!! Four of them now, with milk!"
"Actually, I was going to ask you if-"
"GET ME COFFEE OR DIE!!"

7.  Post Work Cleaning -  Stress makes me angry.  Mess makes me angry.  I am a messy person with a low stress threshold.  Seems only normal that when A comes home after I've had a difficult one, he finds me in one of his t-shirts on the bathroom floor, scrubbing manically with no trousers on and talking in tongues to myself.  Standard.

5 Reasons I'm Not Going To The Gym Tonight

Because the gym police can't get you if you have reasons...

1. I thought so much about going to sleep last night that I forgot to fall asleep.

2. My car decided of its own accord to steer abruptly away from the gym, veering off in the direction of home instead. Weird, right? I think Butch (my powder blue Citroen C1 - I loves me an ironic name) might be distantly related to Herbie.

3. Hungry trumps need for exercise. Always. Except if you're one of those people that go on Channel 4 documentaries because they have to be air lifted off their sofas. Maybe then exercise should win sometimes...

4. I spent an entire afternoon looking through pages and pages of website for small, infuriating typos (for work, not fun). The last thing my brain needs now is to watch my moon white legs pumping away in the reflection of the gym's window for 30-60 minutes.

5. I just don't wannaaaaaa, okay??



Phew. Thanks for being so understanding, you guys. For letting me off the hook, I think I'll let you share some of my ice cream.