Friday, December 14, 2012
Well I promised myself a good solid exercise streak so I have just been to the gym although I didn't feel like it. And I'm glad I did.
It's a funny thing, my visceral response to the gym. Sometimes I get on the treadmill and the whole thing's a chore and I'm counting the minutes. Other times, after about ten minutes my body forgets I wasn't in the mood and takes off on its own, leaving my brain saying 'What happened? What happened?' like Vince van Gopher (I have just had to look on the net for Vince, don't think I have ever known his name before) and I do 45 minutes without losing enthusiasm.
So it was today. As I say, odd. In fact I actually had to promise myself tea at the cafe next to the gym after my workout before I could even contemplate a treadmill.
There I am, post workout, sitting on the little terrace outside the cafe. The weather has suddenly got lots milder, it's at least 50F (11C) where it's been below freezing for much of the last week. It has also of course got wetter, but the terrace is covered and it's not raining.
It's 5.30 in the afternoon and already dark. I'm watching the floodlit sports pitches and can just distinguish the blurred patterns of enthusiastic teenagers playing football in and out of the shadows. The winter branches of trees and shrubs catch a pinkish glow from the floodlights, and there's a strong warm wind so they make tall and ghostly shapes dancing and swaying. I can hear the diminishing rush of blood in my head, and beyond that the swirling wind and whipped branches, and fainter still, a traffic hum.
I've got a cup of hot Earl Grey in front of me and I think how wonderful life's simple pleasures are and how often they have no calories in them.
And I thoughtfully sink my incisors into the inch-thick frosting on my lemon cupcake.
Look, it was a SMALL one, ok? And I counted the calories.
Honestly, can't a girl eat a cake?