Inside my head, I fondly imagine that I am like this:
This is the Yoga Studio lady. Isn't she fab?
However, I thought I'd get Sonshine to video me (using the wee point and click which takes about 10 minutes or so of video footage) so that I could compare MY form with what it ought to look like, as demonstrated by Yoga Lady.
I changed into sweatpants, a sports bra and my thermal vest (come on, it's only April!) and got started.
Sonshine duly worked his way around me, taking shots of my back, my bending over etc. It was only a 15 minute warm up, so I quickly uploaded it to the computer to watch back in comfort.
And then I watched it back.
And then I watched it again. Of course, I was about as flexible as a Mortgage Provider and nothing was moving in the direction that it should but....
My GOD, I had no idea that I really looked like that! Yanno, I KNOW that I'm no oil painting, but dear Lord, with no make up on at all, I was utterly fearsome - my natural expression looks like someone has left rotting herring under my nose.
And my waist! There ISN"T one!!
And my ARSE in those sweatpants?! I jumped up from the computer and strode into the bedroom and yanked off the sweat pants in a single, horrified, move. They are going STRAIGHT to a charity shop (once I've washed them, of course).
I painted my face - primer - the whole works. Removed my hair from its habitual pony tail and smoothed it into submission with oil. Got dressed in some proper clothing and sat on the edge of the bed wondering what to do.
Reader, some people might have taken this video as a wake up call to start doing something about their health - for their family's sake if nothing else.
I headed straight downstairs to the biscuit tin and made myself a stack of Digestive Biscuits and jam. With creme fraiche. Yes, it was the posh strawberry and rose petal jam. I don't mind telling you, it was fantastic. But 'fantastic' in the way that you might have frenzied drunken sex with Ian from Accounts in the toilet at the office Christmas party. You know that you're going to HATE yourself in the morning. And he won't call, of course. Because you showed yourself to be a SLAPPER and STRUMPET.
Yes, I hated myself. I WAS that slapper and strumpet. All for a stack of 6 digestive biscuits. And jam. And cream. But, like the office party scene, I could NOT stop myself from doing it. Even though I was hating myself as I stuffed every bit of creamy, jammy biscuit into my gob.
I decided, in the manner of all the best self-help manuals, to examine my relationship with food. Turns out it's the most fulfilling relationship I've got.
1 I overeat at every meal - my portion size is about the same as Tartarus's and he's a very active man - fitting log-burners, tiling, cementing. I am only active on facebook and twitter.
2 I eat when I'm watching TV. Which is most evenings between 7pm and 10pm.
3 I eat when I'm sad. Which is a lot of the time, thank you world.
4 I eat when I'm stressed. See 3. And 1. and 2 as well. Now that Lucy's been bumped off in Eastenders.
5 I eat what's left on Sonshine's plate. Mothers hate waste. Also love buttery mashed potatoes.
6 I don't enjoy cooking (see: just about every food posting that I've made on this blog. Never goes smoothly) so it's often straight from freezer to oven/microwave etc.
7 I adore sweets - no bar of choccy is safe when I'm around (see: Easter Sunday tomorrow when Sonshine goes to open his Easter Egg. It no longer exists. Or eggsists.
8 I adore savoury.
9 I adore patisserie.
10 I MUST have a biscuit with every cup of tea or coffee. I have about 6 teas/coffees per day.
Something's got to change before I drop dead.
Suggestions and solutions welcome :-D
And no, I am NOT putting up a photo of me trying to do downward dog :-D