I looked in the mirror this weekend and stared into the face of misery. Do you know what misery looks like? I do. She looks like a fat, pale, unkempt 31 year old woman. I do not wish to continue seeing this unhealthy, tired fatso every time I look in the mirror and therefore my mission back to exercise and good health has begun.
A casual observer would think that I made a good start. I power walked 5 miles and I swam for 45 minutes on Monday. I ate healthy food. I washed my hair.
Let me go back to the beginning.
I set off on my power walk to the pool. Unfortunately for me, I was wearing trousers and a fitted, three quarter length sleeve t-shirt. That was unfortunate because outside it was hotter than the sun. I persevered marching through the countryside (needed a small break when a ladybird flew down my T-shirt and BIT ME. What the hell?! Is this some kind of mutant ladybird?).
I reached the pool a sweaty mess, savaged by ladybirds. The receptionist let me in for 40p less than usual because he thought I was a student. Small victory. I did my usual and got changed in a mother and baby cubicle because the normal cubicles are TINY and it is like trying to get changed in a shoe box (ie, physically impossible). My usual locker was free (28) which cheered me as it usually does. I went and showered (caught a rather nasty glimpse of Misery in a full length mirror on the way that was most unappreciated), and then I climbed into the pool.
I love swimming, really love it. I took a deep breath and breathed in the sweet chlorine, put my goggles on and set off.
I am free! The beautiful cool water washing away my troubles. I am a mermaid! I am at one with the water, speeding along. My muscles are stretching, this feels wonderfu….. Eh. Wait. Something is wrong. Something is very wrong.
I don’t feel right. I reach the end of the pool and glance around. Nobody is really paying me any attention. I casually (as casual as one can be under the circumstances) put my hands in the water and feel my breasts under my swimming costume.
I have left my bra on.
I could have died from embarrassment, or more likely stupidity, but I gathered myself, swam out and smartly walked back to the changing rooms to rectify the problem.
After the swim I was (obviously) forced to walk home bra-less and (obviously) since it is England and blue skies and sunshine one minute don’t mean shit, it poured down on the way home. Can anybody say wet T-shirt competition?
Anyway, I made it back. I got changed. I found two spiders in my hair.
That was my Monday. How was yours?
*it has been pointed out to me that ladybirds are not actually a thing in America. For some reason, you call them ladybugs. That is probably why they got pissed off and bit me (happened again yesterday, damned ladybugbirds).