Aquafit advice

OK. So I started with the jogging and then demoted to power-walking and now I’ve resorted to swimming and, wait for it, Aquafit! Although my chum and I are the average age of the local ‘great granny’ at forty-something, we are the youngest attendees by one hundred years each. We’ve been going every week this year, and are quite enjoying it, so I thought I’d give my female readers some advice. (Sorry if it sounds sexist, and although facially it’s hard to tell the difference, I believe all the attendees at the local class are women).

Tips for women doing Aquafit;

·         Position yourself as far back into the deeper water as possible. With an average class age of ninety, they’re not called Tena Ladies for nothing.  Dilution is paramount.

·         If you are ‘well-endowed’ don’t wear a swimsuit. Wear a wet-suit, or a burkini instead. Unless, with all that bobbing, you want your ‘natural buoyancy aids’ to be magnetically attracted to your chin for the entire class.

·         Don’t get too close to the marking-off rope that segregates the class from the rest of the pool, or you might accidently kick one of the old men who congregate there during the ‘Ladies Aquafit’ class.

·         Get close to the marking-off rope that segregates the class from the rest of the pool, so you can ‘accidently’ kick one of the old men who congregate there during the ‘Ladies Aquafit’ class.

·         Prepare for an ego boost. You’ll feel smug knowing there will be someone there with wrinklier thighs or forearms than you.

·         Prepare for a knock in your self-esteem. Some of those grannies, though one hundred years older, are also one hundred times fitter than you.

·         The fun of doing a ‘Marilyn Monroe’ when you’re wearing a swimsuit with an attached skirt wears off after you have to do it 30 times in five minutes.

·         Even if you have the entire pool to yourself, a poor, unsuspecting, old woman will appear by your side  AFTER you’ve accidently hit her with the buoyant dumbells

·         The fitness instructor WILL tease you by showing you the moves at impossibly high speed, because she isn’t in the water. And she’ll urge you to go faster. Use your best anger management skills to stop yourself pouncing out of the pool with the intention of throwing her in shouting, “Resistance! See what it’s like to deal with resistance, Bitch!”

And what about the weather? The wind lashing icy rain against our faces.

That's my excuse for not eating light food this month.

 

Shakira

You may have guessed from my silence on the blog-front, the whole exercise/jogging thingy isn't going all that well. Despite this, I've surprisingly still managed to lose an additional half stone. (Still scratching head over this).

It started off with all the best intentions, twice a week, circuiting the local beauty spot with my heavy bulbous mass, in relative peace, bar the odd cajouling from the birdlife. And then came the stabbing pain in my heel and I assumed it was just my achilles. So I kept running. And then I started to nark off the other joggers in the running group because I'd start well, and run quite fast until time to turn around, and then as the pain got worse I'd slow down and they'd still be running quite fast, and I'd lose sight of them and eventually the jog leader would dutifully, but very reluctantly, have to turn back to tow me home.

So I went to the chiropodist, and she told me, get this, the fatty parts of my heel, yes, the FATTY parts of my heel, are inflamed. So the old self-esteem has taken a knock knowing I'm SO big, even my heels are deemed obese.
And I have new insoles and big shoes that make me look like I'm in a pantomime.

Also I've been on holiday. In Hurghada, Egypt. Where cheesey locals continuously called me 'Shakira'. I have absolutely no idea why, I mean Shakira does not have ginger hair and blue eyes, and I don't know about you, but I can't let Shakira's name pass now without thinking of Karen Dunbar's irreverent impression 

 it still cracks me up. Hmm, just realised it may have been my arse. You can't miss it. It blocks out the light.

So now it's the New Year. 2013. And as for resolutions?

To starve myself until I do actually look like Shakira? That's as likely as Shakira joining a convent.

To exercise just a little more? To eat a little less?

The jury's out on those ones.

However, I do want to wish you all health, happiness and prosperity in 2013 and may it be the best year you've ever had.

Immy x