I took my foot to the doctor's yesterday. In fact, it insisted on coming. It also made its presence felt with every step.
The doctor held it in her lap and looked it over carefully and said the problem is probably a strained ligament, and as ligaments in general have a poor blood supply, it will take a while to heal.
However, she was definite about one thing: I should not under any circumstance give up exercising. She was quite congratulatory about my revised lifestyle though I did point out that I've had a two=month SparkBlip.
(It's just possible word has got around the practice that one of their fat people has not only lost some weight but has also started taking exercise. Stuff like this is what doctors dream of because so few of the people they advise to lose weight and take exercise actually do lose weight and take exercise. Weightloss refuseniks come in bundles, in fact I look like a whole bundle of people on my own.)
Anyway I assured her that I was actually en route for the swimming pool and indeed have reached the point where without exercise I get moany and frustrated (you'd noticed?) and she put up bunting and pointed out that this is particularly good for upper body strength. Swimming, that is, not being moany and frustrated. If moany and frustrated developed muscles I'd look like Mr Universe.
I hadn't the heart to tell her that I'm not so far gone on exercise that I understand what upper body strength actually involves. Please, SparkFriends, if you love me at all, don't all write in to explain. Ignorance is bliss. If it will reduce my waistline, I'm in the money but if it isn't going to I'd rather not know. As I suspected, when I look in the mirror at the swimming pool, the measurement round my bottom is easily three dress sizes smaller than that round my waist. I won't go into details about the size of the skin round the back being rather larger than what it contains: those of you who've experienced this already know; those who haven't should thank your lucky stars.
So there I was again today, third time this week. Tomorrow is a new week, and I'll have to start all over again. The weather has brightened up today and got a bit milder and it's Sod's Law that I can't walk more than half a mile at the mo.
In an attempt to eat five freggies today I've just eaten two pears poached in red wine.
That is HALF FAT creme fraiche you see there.
Look, I'm trying really hard, ok?