Sweaty Betty

I've never seen the appeal of running.  Unless you have a bus to catch or a serial killer to outrun, why would you bother?  When we had just started at school and I didn't know anyone, one of the Mums tried to convince me to join her running group.  At the time I was really lonely and desperate for some adult company but even that couldn't convince me that running is a good idea.  Now walking, that's a whole other kettle of fish.  Whether it’s a brisk trot or a sauntering stroll, I am a fan of a good walk.  You get a bit of exercise without getting all sweaty and you still have enough breath to have a chat.

In a break from my usual low-key exercise choices, I recently started going to Zumba classes.  The search for a new yoga class was proving unfruitful so I thought I would go for something a bit different.  Who knew that a seemingly normal human being could be so uncoordinated!!  I did much better with the music I recognised, as at least if I knew the beat was about to change I could figure out we were going to change sides but with the songs I didn't know, I was constantly two steps behind or waving the wrong arm like a big eejit.  Then I made the fatal mistake of looking in the mirror.  Never look in the mirror.  The mirror is not your friend.  The mirror dispels the illusion that you are sort of keeping up.  It shows you just how red and sweaty you are and confuses you when you try to copy the teacher.  My advice is to stick with watching her feet and hands in real life and focus on breathing through that stitch in your side.  The first few weeks I left a dripping sweaty mess, a situation not helped by the humid weather.  Now that the evenings are getting cooler and dare I say it, my stamina has improved a bit, things are a bit less gross at the end of class. 

How is it that when you are actively looking for something it is nowhere to be found and yet when you have given up, it pops up when you least expect it?  The universe is a tricky trickster sometimes.  Not one but two evening yoga classes appeared in my Facebook feed recently after months of nothing, so I've booked in to a Wednesday night class as I figured exercising two nights in a row would be a bridge too far for a couch potato like me.  Really looking forward to getting back on my mat, though I may need to knock the dust off it first.

The long and winding road

Regardless of how young you may feel, there are certain tell tale signs that you are getting older.  Maybe it's a bit more salt than pepper in your hair, maybe it's a few extra laughter lines round your eyes or pounds round your waist.  Sometimes the signs you are aging are not quite as visible.  Like when the time comes to have your first colonoscopy.  Yes the C word that no-one wants to think about, much less talk about.  Thankfully not a rite of passage that everyone will need to undertake but for those of us that do, it is something that is all too easy to put to the end of the to do list (and we all know that things down the end tend to never actually get done).  Let's face it, there are much more pleasant ways to spend an afternoon.  But rather than die of embarrassment, I made the decision to just get it over and done with and so yesterday I did.       

In my post procedure sedated state I decided that a colonoscopy is a bit like a wedding.  The preparation beforehand is the worst part, on the day itself you get to wear a special gown and when it's all over you are left feeling a bit deflated.

All clear and 5 years till my next recall - result!

You know that check up you keep meaning to book?  That test you need to schedule?  

Put yourself and your health to the top of your to do list and in words borrowed from a wise woman named Mary, JFDI - Just F***ing Do It!