Friday, 6 January 2017

Way down...

Now I have mentioned Pilates to my friends, the floodgates of opinion and wisdom have opened from all and sundry.  Everyone has a story. Everyone is an expert. 

Yesterday, the lovely Mrs L who I work with at Binland, whipped out a box from under her desk.  'This might be useful at your Pilates class next week', she said, handing the flat cardboard box over to me.  I thanked her, and headed back to my office to see what was in there.  Taking it out, it was a round plastic ring with side grips.  I did wonder whether this was one of those instances when someone had used an old box to wrap a new present (I do this all at the time at Christmas and my gifts are a constant source of disappointment to the recipients) and perhaps it wasn't Pilates-related at all.  It looked like a steering wheel from a Mark III Ford Escort to be honest, soI don't think I'll take it to my first lesson.  I can just imagine the teacher taking one look and telling me that the 'car maintenance is down the hall, dear'.  Maybe week two, when I've fathomed out what the hell I am meant to do with it.

I've never been to an exercise class which uses 'props'.  From what I have been told, there are rubber rings and giant balls to play with, which makes it sound a bit like an adventure playground.  As long as there is also a ball pit and a very irresponsible death slide, I'll be happy.  Oh, and chicken nuggets and chips for tea after having my face and hands viciously cleaned with a wet wipe.  Remember those days, ladies?

So the diet has gone fairly well over the last two days, with me saying 'No thank you' a lot more frequently than, 'Oh go on, six more won't hurt'.  No biscuit, sweet or cake has passed my lips, although I have had to give myself a stiff talking to on a couple of occasions, so I have high hopes for my weigh in on Saturday morning.

I am hoping that the scales won't have to go around twice to give me an accurate weight like they did last week .  I used to have some of those talking scales, but I was so afraid that the silly woman would say 'One at a time please' that I binned them, preferring the 'if I stand on one leg and breathe out, then the arrow goes down a bit' scales.  We all need a little help in that department every now and again I feel.

You might remember from previous ramblings, that Fridays at Binland are known as Fat Fridays.  This is because I bring in goodies, to sort of say thank you to all the people who have to put up with me all week.  Yesterday, Mrs S broke the news to me gently that Fat Friday was no more and I wasn't to bring in any goodies for the time being because everyone was packing a bit of extra Christmas wrapping after too much Christmas stuffing.

WHAT?? 

Well I am going to suggest that we carry on with Fat Friday, as long as we all have a Thin Thursday, surviving on dust and condensation. 

Not sure I'll be able to convince them though...

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