I've had aching arm muscles ever since I slimmed down last autumn. I didn't do it wisely, and lost not only a lot of girth but a lot of muscle tone. And strength. I'm not much of a girl yet, but I'm already useless at lifting or pushing anything heavy. Rather embarrassing when you try to leave a store in a cool and elegant manner, only to end up bracing your backside against the doorway in order to make an escape. At times like that I really appreciate having the door held for me by gentlemen, whether done ironically or not. And it's one of those moments when other women, real ones, smile at me in a 'join the club, sister' sort of way, and when it's kindly done I feel much less undignified.
When I wake up in the morning it's ache, ache, ache. It gets better as the morning wears on, but this isn't good. Of course, it may simply be OLD AGE. But I'm not about to admit THAT. I reckon that, lightning strikes and terrorist bombs aside, I've got 20 or even 30 years more to fill in, and I want to do it without pain. I'm a bit fed up with Tesco, from whom I ordered Darcy Bussell's 'Pilates For Life' before Christmas, and it still hasn't arrived. I need it for my posture. I've got the mat. I need the DVD - are you listening, Tesco?