It might’ve escaped your notice, but I haven’t been blogging about Frankie the wonder trainer recently (new readers – Frankie is a personal trainer, not my favourite sports shoe). I’m afraid that’s because I’ve been avoiding the gym for the last few months – eek. Anyway, New Year, new start and so on: this morning I had a 7.45am showdown booked with Frankie. I woke up at 5.50am, in a bit of a panic; I’d been dreaming that today was my first day as a trainee police officer! The alarm went off a few minutes later and I pulled on my gym kit. TA got up too which made things easier, but I still grumbled, “I don’t want to do this, what’s the point, it’s too cold for exercise…” TA, of course, was not sympathetic.
I gritted my teeth, was out of the house by 7am and on the treadmill by 7.30am. In the mirrors I could see Frankie was with another woman – the cad! – so I kept trundling. Frankie threaded his way over to me and did a full-on double take. “What have you been doing?” He exclaimed, “Where’s your belly gone!” I demurred, “I’ve lost a bit of weight, I haven’t been coming to the gym but I have stopped eating cakes and pies.” He was gratifyingly dumbfounded. “You’re the first person who’s really noticed,” I said. [TA doesn’t count since I’m always grilling him on whether I’m thinner or fatter]. Frankie was so astounded that he insisted on taking all my measurements again. I was beginning to think I must have lost at least a stone, but sadly no – still got a good few pounds to shift.
Frankie took me to the rowing machine – my first ever rowing session. It was brilliant! I kept thinking: why ever did I stop coming to the gym? The endorphins flooded my system and, while I was pretty annoyed that my fitness level had fallen, I felt brilliant.
Early night tonight, gym tomorrow – promise.