Back in the sweats

Since I seem to be spending so much time twiddling my thumbs and wishing for the weeks to pass, I decided that these days would be better spent getting fit. Much as I love my yoga, I need more of a physical outlet for my frustrations so I downloaded a few recommended fitness apps on to the telly promising toned abs and buff muscles. I come from a family of fitness enthusiasts who see a 10 km run or swim as one of life’s pleasures, something I tend to avoid in favour of a leisurely morning stretch. The only time I feel the need to run is when Arry spies a particularly smelly puddle halfway across the park. So the online fitness classes seemed perfect for wasting an hour or so even if I have to sweat occasionally. I used to be a fitness instructor, in fact Tony and I met when we were both working in a gym. When he first converted the garage into his fitness studio, I was a regular visitor but once my canine career took off I had less time for the running machine so I sort of fell out with fitness. Yoga has been my saviour in terms of calming the mind but physically I’m still twitching.

They say our bodies have muscle memory but mine seems to have muscle amnesia. I know it’s been a few years since I squatted, lunged and jump jack’d but I can’t remember them hurting as much. And I’m sure I never did a burpee in my 20’s. For those unfamiliar with a burpee, notice that the online trainer demonstrates the torture then gleefully encourages you without actually taking part. One cannot fail to point out that said trainer is at least half my age and has a washboard stomach and I’m delusional enough to think my belly is going to look like theirs. But nevertheless, I am crunching, punching and jumping my way out of this boredom and actually enjoying it. Well, the feeling afterwards anyway. I can’t believe anyone actually enjoys wheezing their way through a workout.

Sore muscles and sweat aside, I have tried to keep myself busy this week. The amount of rain that has suddenly descended on us has meant that the front garden is, and I quote a friend, ‘channeling Jumanji’. I could lose dogs in the grass that I’m sure I only cut a couple of weeks ago and the weeds are having a laugh at my expense. Pulling up dandelions is a workout in itself, forget push ups for those biceps and the ancient lawnmower uses every muscle to push it through the jungle. The accidental brush with a stinging nettle brings a new aspect to plyometrics and nothing works your core (new word for your midriff) quite like the battle of the ivy stalks. Come to think of it, those online gurus are far more appealing even if I have to suffer a burpee or three…

“Our dog chases people on a bike. We’ve had to take it off him” (Winston Churchill)