Well, I guess this is what you’d call another bump in the road. I had awesome plans to walk on Saturday with one of my best buddies who’d figured out a great route down in the Derbyshire Peak District. A precious walk, you know? The sort of walk I could never attempt on my own due to being a bit lacking in the sense of direction department. I’d get lost, and someone would find me in a cave after six months with an impressive beard….let’s face it, it’s pretty impressive anyway, or at least it would be in the absence of tweezers.

But my friend is a map hound, so I was excited…we were planning to walk for ten miles or so, my longest yet and I was so up for it. Backpack was all ready, boots de-mudified after last time, water bottles filled and in the fridge…bring it on. My plan was to rise early, do a bit of writing and then spend the rest of the day yomping up hill and down dale, practising for Cuba and also shaking off the unwelcome pounds that materialised after last week’s whoopsie.

Except. I woke up early on Saturday morning and realised that I couldn’t move my head. I tried to move it and let out an involuntary shriek which was loud enough to make Charlie shoot off the bed and growl at the linen basket…clearly he suspected some imminent threat to life and the linen basket must have been the first thing he saw in his just-awake state. The shriek happened because trying to move my head really bloody hurt. It took me twenty minutes to actually lift my head off the pillow, so clearly all was not well.

To cut a long story short, after four hours in the hospital, it transpired that for some reason during the night, all the muscles in the right hand side of my neck had gone into spasm, which meant that every little movement of my head was agony. I came home with three lots of drugs…painkillers, anti-inflammatories and diazepam to relax my muscles so the last 2 days have passed in a bit of a haze, if I’m honest. And it’s not feeling any better yet 🙁

So, like the best laid plans of mice and men, my weekend turned to shit. No walking, no classes. And despite all the pain, which sort of means that moving around isn’t possible, I feel so guilty about the fact that I’ve been so inactive. I don’t sit for hours in the armchair these days, that was the old me, you know? I don’t do that any more. Except this weekend I have.

However, get this – I’ve hated every minute of being in that armchair. I’ve sat there and seethed to myself at the interruption to my training programme. I missed my ten mile walk on Saturday, and my fat furnace class and my box-lite class yesterday, and I sulked to olympic standard at the unfairness of it all.

Do you remember, when I first started moving, that every time I was doing anything which required effort all I wanted to do was scuttle back to my armchair..? Look at me now, I’m handed a genuine bona fide hall pass to the whole fitness thing, and I don’t fucking want it. How did that even happen? The realisation has taken me completely by surprise. Some of you lot told me that would happen and I didn’t believe you. I’ve always hated exercise.  But now it seems that I don’t…who knew!

That said, if the Gods of Skinny are listening, thanks for the enlightenment but I can think of easier ways to learn a lesson than being put out of action by something that really hurts…you all know I’m a wuss and I don’t do pain. But if there is a silver lining in this particular cloud, well there it is, right there…I’m actually missing my exercise regime. Dear God, miracles really do happen.

What’s more, there were no cheese balls keeping me company over the weekend at I sat there in the armchair. No comfort food to ease the pain in my neck…that’s also progress, right? Strong drugs, which come with a directive to ‘take with or after food’ would have meant a mental punch of the air and a licence to munch, in times gone by. If anything I’ve eaten less than normal this weekend because I’ve not been moving around very much. HELLO, this must be what being a grown-up feel like? Miracle number two.

In fact, it seems they come in threes…this week, you know those three unwelcome but deserved pounds that showed on the scale last week? Gone. Along with two more…five pounds loss this week. Get in 🙂

So I’m in a lot of pain, but I’m feeling pretty positive. Things will work out, you know? My neck will hopefully feel better in a couple of days and then I can get back to my new normal…which includes grabbing life by the balls and squeezing 🙂

Like it..? Tell your friends!