I did not go to Body Balance last night. I rushed out of the house to cries of ‘but mama, I will miss you! can I come? one more cuddle, and a kiss…pleease? don’t go mama! I have not said goodbye!’ [for the millionth time]. Drove like a maniac the two minute distance to the gym (I could walk but a) that is more exercise, let’s not push it b) it is dark and c) it is going to rain) parked across two spaces like a woman possessed, sprinted (walked fast) towards the entrance to be pipped at the post by three hippy women and as I got to the check-in I was met with a ‘sorry class is full’ as the hippies casually took their shoes off and sort of elegantly tiptoed towards the class, ankle bracelets twinkling. Bitches. That was my class.
What happened next well, I have no clue. I expect it had something to do with missing that mornings meds. After returning home, I joined the family on the bed, for stories, and R put them to bed while I ‘rested’ my eyes. I passed out. Like, actually, no recollection of the next hour until R came up and complained he was all alone. I could not speak or move, I ‘slept’ until 6:45am and woke with The Most Horrendous Headache, having also missed my meds last night. Tramadol withdrawal is Not Pleasant and I’m not looking forward when I no longer need it. I have had the shakes all day and my legs almost gave way walking back from the school/nursery run.
I felt so rough, but there was another body balance class at 12:30. I looked terrible, hair was sweaty and yucky, clothes were crumpled, I took the kids to school looking like a fright, baseball cap and long coat on. But I was determined to get to that Class.
And with the help of 3 cups of coffee and some Guitar Hero with R before he went to work, to lift my mood, I did! I had a chat with a personal trainer about parting with £130 per month to get a proper exercise regime going (sod that I can work it out myself thanks) and 10 mins later, I was floating. Ok. I was falling. A Lot. The instructor was brilliant, gave me little shakes of the head which was my cue to stay in Down-Dog or whatever instead of contorting my body into some snake like position (see, I am using the lingo already). I could not even hold my arms out straight without them shaking, but I did it anyway.
And then. Get this. I Went For A Swim. I thought, well, I am here right? 6 lengths of the tiny pool, 15 mins collapsed in the Spa, 20 mins sat in the disabled shower purely to catch my breathe. Well, not purely, I shaved my legs.
Roll on 3pm, I was collecting Winter Boy from nursery like a new woman. My hair had been styled and dried, some BB cream and a little sparkle wake up cream, mascara, lipgloss and I was transformed. Apart from the slight limp from some pain cutting through my hip into my almost numb foot which I was desperately trying to ignore.
Rock On Friday for the next class! And if anyone is thinking of going (denialandpanic for example) do it. It is brilliant!