Wednesday, 27 October 2010

I've joined a gym!

Or rather my husband has signed me up on a family membership. Do you think he’s trying to tell me something? I suppose the excuse of post pregnancy bulge must be wearing a bit thin. My youngest is nearly 7 after all.

I’ve never been what you call a gym bunny. In fact, put me in a room with exercise machines and people pumping iron who all know what they are doing and the exercise pattern I will show is running very fast in the opposite direction.

To my husband I say -
Ask me: Do you want a glass of wine? The answer will always be yes (unless I’m driving of course by which the answer will be no with an ill-contained snarl).
Ask me: Do you want to go out for a meal? Again yes
Ask me: Would you like a couple of hours to loll on the sofa and read a good book? Oh yes!
Ask me: Would you like me to take the children out for the day so you can get some writing done? Oh yes please!

But

Ask me: Would you like to go to the gym? Answer – Erm, probably not.


I don’t mind swimming and I don’t mind walking but finding the time always seems to be problem. I mean there are always plenty of other things to do aren’t there? Even cleaning the oven seems preferable to pushing my muscles (or lack of them) to the limit.

But now I am a fully paid up member and as he’s paid it for me he’s going to want to see a return on his money. I suppose I could always sit in the coffee lounge and write my novel instead. Do you think he’ll notice when a year down the line I am no more toned than I am today? No, I don’t think I will get away with that one!

And to make matters worse the membership starts on 1 November – on the same day that NaNoWriMo starts. Guess I’m going to have my work cut out for me in November.

Excuse me while I go and have a little lie down!

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