IS THIS what dying feels like?
I have a horrendous pain in my side, my chest is heaving, I’m getting dizzy and my face now matches the new trainers I bought last week. They’re pink… and I mean pink.
No I’m not in surgery. I’m at the gym.
I admit it has been a while.
“How long?” asks the class instructor. Well…
The fact I have to think about it — not a good sign. I have been travelling since May. I had my wedding in April. I was preparing for my wedding in March…
Is it really a whole year since I last entered a gym?
After 45 minutes of torture I was trying to understand why I even wanted to claw my way back onto the horse. I think I was quite happy where I fell off.
There must have been a reason. No one would do sit ups, push ups, skipping, squats, lunges, burpees and a number of other ridiculously named exercises for no reason.
Maybe it was that news story about the obesity rate rising. Or perhaps it was when I had to stop to catch my breath after walking up the escalators instead of standing on the right. Or it could have been the doctor I finally registered with informing me that I was slightly overweight. Whatever the reason, I knew it was time.
As a recent(ish) arrival in London, I had an awful feeling that the “Heathrow Injection” had caught up with me. I had put on a few kilos since I’d left Australia.
But is there any truth behind the “Heathrow Injection”? My slowly increasing muffin top would argue yes, but I still can’t work out why.
As different as they are, I don’t think my English lifestyle is much worse than my Australian one. I don’t have a car in London and I do try and walk most of the time… well, at least when weather permits. Fresh fruit and veg seem much more wallet friendly here than back home. I do however, get it delivered to my flat and carted up 3 flights of stairs by the Tesco guy. Alternatively, the dirty grocer across the road has much cheaper fruit and veg, if you don’t mind that it is not as fresh. And I can’t find a McDonalds anywhere near my home or work. There are only pubs, Pret’s and Eat’s, which have to be more healthy, surely?
If I am trying to put the blame somewhere, I am going to do what every good Englishman (or woman) does and talk about the weather. I have high hopes for the arrival of summer and the departure (hopefully) of my muffin top… But in the meantime, I’m going to channel Olivia Newton John and get physical.
