Saturday, 4 June 2016

I beg your pardon...

It was a very difficult day for me yesterday after my debut on the waste vehicles of Oxfordshire on Thursday.  Every now and again, another part of my body would shriek at me, 'For goodness sake woman!  Have you lost your mind?  You're 52....what were you thinking of?'

Well, I'll be honest with you, it wasn't the effect on my body the next day, that's for sure.  When I crawled (literally, as I couldn't walk) into bed on Thursday night, I was still grinning like Heath Ledger's Joker, replaying my brilliant day over and over again. 

But on waking up yesterday morning, it became apparent that I may have 'overdone it'.  This is one of the mother's favourite phrases, and on this occasion, I think it's safe to say that I really had.

Let me take you through some of the results of heaving industrial sized wheelie bins to waste trucks for the day....

1.  Overnight, I think someone came to my bed, unscrewed my legs, and then screwed them back on, but the wrong way round.  This will explain why they don't bend in the middle anymore without brute force and a jar of Vaseline. 
2.  I have developed biceps and will need to buy a vest to show them off.
3.  The manly boots have given me two blisters, and a touch of Athlete's Foot (perhaps popsocks weren't the best idea after all)
4. Two chipped nails
5. Flaky, dry skin on my hands which were encased in rubber all day - I am shedding like a snake
6. I am now able to crack a fair sized walnut with my thighs
7. Minor deafness in my right ear - I thought I could talk for England, but it turns out that Graham holds the trump card on this.
8. Diabetes.  Actually, this isn't strictly true, but if I had eaten as much chocolate as Graham did, I would be well on the way by now.
9. Foul language - not picked up from my driver, that's for sure, but from the customers, who seemed totally unaware that I was a lady of some breeding with a delicate nature (stop laughing...)

All in all, I'm knackered, as befitting an asthmatic middle-aged lady with a broken rib, who hasn't worked out for years, and whose idea of exercise is going up the stairs twice to get what I forgot the first time.  But you know, as you get older, the chance to try something new doesn't happen that often, and I'm glad I did it.

Ask my legs whether they enjoyed it, I think the answer might be slightly different, and may be peppered with a few of those lovely new words I learned...
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