Forgive Me Father…

For I have spinned. Spun? Span? Spooned? Spangled? Whatever, they’re all adjectives for KNACKERED.

Tuesday night saw Mermaid and I head to Total NRG, she a consumate professional in the art of being NRGised, me a complete amateur wearing saggy jogging bottoms and my dog walking trainers. I had little clue what the class had in store for me when I started and looking back I still have little clue about what it entailed. The best description I can offer is that it is some sort of dance, aerobics, pilates, basketball training hybrid with an instructor who gives great face and clearly has a very healthy sex life if the way she screeches ‘yes, YES, OH YES’ whilst we bang our butts against the floor is anything to go by.

As if that mix wasn’t enough, I joined the Mermaid in her weekly spin class in a sweaty little hot box with pumping disco tunes. The last spinning class I went to I lasted approximately 5 minutes before thinking I was going to throw up in my mouth and all over the floor so I was really surprised when I got halfway through the class before the urge to fling myself to the floor in a full on tantrum took hold.

Saturday morning saw me wake up early, totally psyched to get to the gym and get properly sweaty. I know, I’m wondering what I’ve done with the real LongTallAlly too. I think the endorphins have started to take over as I woke up this morning itching to get to Total NRG this evening, almost willing the day away so I can be in that hall rolling around on the floor like a beached whale with my legs akimbo. And I’ve already asked the Stepmama if I can borrow her bike at the weekend as I’ll be back in the ‘shire and won’t be able to go to the gym… Actually planning exercise into a weekend at home and not seeing it as an excuse to slack off? The times they are a changing.


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