Ok. They are not really suede. But they are BLUE SHOES. Indeed. And I will be pretty upset if you STEP ON THEM. So, please don't. My third pair of Clarks Bombay Lights. I LOVE THESE SHOES. I am trying very hard to resist buying them in raspberry red. Especially now that there is a ballerina version of them available, too. In PATENT raspberry red. Even better. Yummie.
I'll tell you what. If I am a good girl and go to the gym three times this week, I will consider buying the red ones this weekend. You see, not to be bragging, but I have already been to the gym twice this week. And tomorrow I have an appointment with my my pre-wedding personal trainer, M. This is all the result of a pre-bikini-season panic that suddenly hit me hard on Monday morning, as I realized that an Easter diet consisting of chablis and chocolate fudge might not be the thing if you want to look fairly decent wearing a bikini.
I know I have told you before about my "slight aversion" towards going to the gym. I guess being a total looser during twelve years of mandatory PE lessons in school has scarred my soul beyond repair. In fact, there are so many things I hate about physical exercise that I could write a BOOK about it. This book will contain topics like:
- Lugging all my exercise gear along, in addition to my insanely heavy backpack containing my pre-cambrium work laptop.
- Actually SWEATING. I much prefer sweating on a sunbed with a glass of something cold and awesome, decadently swinging from my left hand (the right hand is at that time used to update Facebook status on iPhone).
- The foul smell of other people's sweat. Which seems to stick to the walls of these places. Yuk.
- All the MIRRORS. I did not get there to be reminded of how stupid I look after five seconds of something resembling exercise (freshly boiled lobster, anyone?). And I just cannot take looking at how some guys seem to get off enjoying their own reflection while flexing their muscles. Gah.
- Other people - part 1: Having to listen to the music the current PT victim has chosen for today's guilt-trip. Yesterday I had to watch a VERY caucasian management-type-of-guy (being a well-known mind-reader, I could tell how he believed he was an alfa-male) doing his forward lunges and squats to "Vato"* by Snoop Dog. IN-DA-HOOD, indeed!
- Other people - part 2: Having to listen to the two wise-guys on the treadmill next to me trying to dazzle each other with their vast knowledge while watching a trivia show on TV. NO, Mick Hucknall was NEVER the lead singer of INXS! Duh.
- Swimming at the deep end of the pool.
- I have the annoying habit of getting "sucked into" any movie within five seconds when zapping between channels. At my local gym they project "Fish - the movie" on the wall above the swimming pool. CONTINUOUSLY. For once I would actually be ok if we could zap on to something else. Please.
- Taking a shower, like - NAKED - with strangers. Mostly makes me feel inadequate, but in some cases even repulsed.
- Stepping in hair fallen off the above mentioned strangers' heads (I hope - as other alternatives would be even more disgusting), then getting these hair tangled in-between my toes. Yuk!
Fortunately, Mr. Incredible has bought me a membership at a non-stinky place with clean/non-hairy/separate shower stalls. With plush clean towels, deliciously smelling soap and shampoo, and - behold - HAIR CONDITIONER. When you add a jacuzzi, sunbeds and proper hairdryers, I almost look forward to going. At least I am out of excuses. And, after all the suffering, it does not feel too bad.
No comments:
Post a Comment