Now, yesterday we went swimming, as usual. I decided to try the front crawl. I hadn’t done it since my youth, so, goggles on—yes, I wore my new goggles, complete with rainbow lenses that make me look like a fly—and off I went. Gosh, it’s rather more exertion than good old breaststroke, isn’t it? By the time I got to the other end, water went down the back of my nose and I choked. Looking like a complete gimp, I coughed and spluttered. A man stared at me as though to ask if I was all right, and I said, “Fuck me!” by way of explanation.
Of course, I didn’t mean it literally, and I doubt very much he’d want to do such a thing to me anyway, and my goodness if he did I’d clout him around the face, but he looked at me like I was a complete weirdo and swam further away. Bless him.
We arrived home, and I decided to clean up a little. Grease from a dirty baking tray had spilled on the floor, and I slipped. Then, when Hubby had left the room, I slipped again … Later, I ran out of dishwashing tablets and decided that squirting a tiny amount of washing-up liquid in the machine wouldn’t be a problem. When I went into the kitchen to remove the cinnamon buns from the oven—which, incidentally, ended up sunken and resembling biscuits—I discovered foam spilling from the dishwasher door and the space between the dishwasher and washing machine crammed with it. I pressed pause to find a washer full of foam, completely hiding my dishes. Lovely. I won’t be doing that again.
As is usual for a Monday morning, the school run never goes as smoothly as other days. By the time I dropped little one off, I heaved a sigh of relief and walked to our local shop to withdraw some cash so I could buy some Diet Coke and dishwashing tablets. The damn ATM was out of service. Hmm, I thought. Do I walk into town or not? Deciding not, I stomped at a fast clip along the path and saw a neighbour.
“You all right?” she asked.
I explained my annoying morning and ended up walking into town with her and another neighbour. Pleasant time spent drinking coffee in a pub—ooerr, and people do drink beer at 10 in the morning!—then into the supermarket to buy what I needed, except I forgot the damn Coke.
“That’s okay, I’ll have tea,” I said to myself once home. And then the aforementioned nose-burning incident occurred.
Now, do I remain in one place all day, keeping away from anything that can do me harm, or do I go about as usual and await any mishaps that may be lurking? I only plan to do laundry and write. Hmm. Let’s just hope I manage that and come out the other side unscathed.
The exercise regime is going well. I never thought I’d be an exercise-type person. I mean, the thought of jumping around and getting sweaty just didn’t appeal, and I honestly didn’t understand the fitness bug until I embarked on my mission to lose weight for good this year. Yep, I’ve tried it numerous times before, got to a reasonable size, then slipped back into my old ways, regaining the pounds I’d lost. Something clicked in my mind this past Christmas. My old habits had to change, and I accepted that to lose weight and keep it off, I’d have to exercise as well as adopting a healthy eating attitude.
Diet aside (that’s a whole other topic), I started aerobics at home—much more comfortable with that. After all, no one is here to see me heaving about in the living room, or there to laugh when I cock up a move and fuck up the dance routine. No, I’m all by myself, and I can mutter, “Silly cow!” and continue on as though nothing ever happened. Then came the swimming idea. I had to lose enough weight to be able to go—no way would I go before I was comfortable in a swimsuit. So I got comfortable with my size, and we started swimming last week, primarily to teach Smallest to swim and secondly to lose weight/tone the bod/get fit. Hubby has an amusing post on yesterday’s swim trip HERE, and he’s voiced all the things that went through my mind at last week’s session. But I must say, I’d forgotten how much I enjoyed swimming. Don’t get me wrong, I hate people splashing and getting my face and hair wet (God, what a boring cow I sound. “Don’t splash me! Don’t get me wet!” I’m a pool. How can I not get wet, for eff’s sake!), but the actual act of swimming is cool. I managed 34 lengths compared to last week’s 18, and felt better for doing it after having 5 days off from doing aerobics, which was naughty indeed, but I told myself my body needed the respite. That was my excuse anyway…
Already I’m looking forward to next week, and I have my exercise days all planned out for this week. Hopefully my body will be more toned by the summer. I’ve hated previous summers, where I’ve felt uncomfortable shedding the layers and exposing my less-than-voluptuous body for the eyes of those slimmer than me to take the piss out of, but this year I’ll feel a lot better about myself. I know we shouldn’t care what other people think, and for the most part these days, I don’t, but I do care about what I think, hence me doing something about the vessel that carries me around. Whether it’s because I’m getting older and I’ve realised that if I don’t care about my body it won’t serve me too well when I’m even older, I don’t know, but whatever it is, I’m going to keep going.
One day I’ll walk on a beach in a bikini. One day.