She was the pinnacle of fitness. My guru. Abbeycroft Leisure's version of Wonderwoman (without the Spandex).
This week, she showed a slight chink in that armour. She cried off Monday's #fitnotfat session. yes, she was very apologetic and made up some reason about being a little bit icky.
As I pulled and pushed on the TRX machine, the seated rower and sorted out my glutes (for glutes, read backside - I had to ask, too), I chuckled to myself in self-congratulation. I knew why she cancelled.
She can't keep up with me any more . . .
Now fitness ( or rather the lack of it) is like smoking/drinking/womanising (not sure I know everything about all of those, but I have experience of each). Admitting you have a problem is the first step on a long journey.
Come on, Smiling Assassin. Admit it ... that boxing session on Friday did you in, eh!
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