So the coffin-sized cardboard box which got delivered at the weekend amid much excitement is no longer posing as a one-box-obstacle-course in my kitchen thanks to my friend and knight in shining armour, who popped in to work his magic last night after work. Under my close supervision – I was in charge of removing plastic wrapping and polystyrene – he effortlessly assembled the gleaming beast of a cross-trainer which is now firmly in-situ, plugged in and ready to make me hurt.
After he’d left last night I spent a bit of time reading the instructions, you know so I can get the most out of my workouts…okay lets be honest, to make sure I understand how to put it on the easiest setting 🙂 Hey, I need to ease myself in gently, right? I was more than a little bit alarmed to note their disclaimer that ‘too much exercise could injure your body or can cause dead’. Best go a bit steady then chaps.
I did a quick few steps on it last night, not in a serious workout kind of way…I was wearing my slippers at the time, and having moved it around the bedroom with the help of my boy into several different spots until I was happy with the feng shui (otherwise known as making sure it didn’t obscure the view of the TV from my bed) I felt like I’d spent two hours in the gym already, damn thing weighs a ton.
But I went to sleep with much anticipation of waking up this morning, leaping out of bed and pulling on my gear so I could crack on with an invigorating hour of exercise to set me up for the day. I’ve bought new trainers and everything, which even match the colour of the frame on this thing. I’m telling you, woman and machine in perfect symmetry, how on earth could it result in anything other than poetry in motion?
So, this morning then…well. My new trainers fitted. Sadly the same can’t be said for my exercise gear, which to be fair hasn’t seen the light of day since God was a lad. I mean I know lycra is stretchy but it’s apparently not quite that stretchy. Naked it is then. Well, naked with new trainers. It’s ok, the shutters were closed and there was only me and the dog, who was watching me quizzically from a safe distance…come on, you can’t blame him…he still remembers the power plate.
After two false starts, when I couldn’t seem to get it on the easiest setting only to discover that it was already on the easiest setting, the penny started to drop that this might not be quite the walk in the park that I’d imagined. I altered the timer to ten minutes from the hour that I’d brazenly keyed in to start with, and off I went.
One minute in and we’re doing okay…feeling it a bit in the legs but it’s all good. Two minutes in I’ve noticed that if I look up I can see my reflection in the TV which is directly in front of me…let’s not dwell on that other than to say I need some new exercise duds, to avoid any mental scarring which might result from being exposed to this image ever again.
Three minutes in and I’m starting to hurt. The asshole in my mind has sprung into action and he’s busy telling me that I’ve done enough…don’t overdo it on your first attempt, you must have burned off two thousand calories by now, so why don’t you go downstairs and make bacon, you’ve earned it! Four minutes in and I’m seriously starting to think that this might actually result in dead.
I made it to five minutes. And then I made it to the bed, and laid there for a bit wondering what just happened. Eventually I made it downstairs to the kitchen, on legs made of rubber, and as I sit here typing this I can’t help looking across at the fruit bowl, and wondering just how many grapes I could eat with the seven fucking calories I just burned. SEVEN!!! I could have earned more picking my nose.
Now, my promise to you is that I will complete that other five minutes at some point today. I’m going to take the dog out for a good walk in a minute, and isn’t that going to be an interesting experience on rubber legs. I haven’t quit…I’ve just paused. And I’m starting to think that perhaps I won’t have buns of steel by Friday. But no quitters here 🙂
