Before I begin I must say thank you for your kind end-of-the-run-comments.
All duly noted.
All duly wept over.
Oh come on, you should know by now that anything nice that is ever said to me turns me into the The Fontana del Nettuno. Were I to stand at the north end of the Piazza Navona I could easily compete with those chubby cherubs and their outpourings.
So here I sit, cuppa Rooibosh half drunk, in my room, with only a sweater between me and the elements.
I have been to the gym and done 30 minutes on those wretched machines.
Elaine induced me on Monday.
It’s the time-honoured, dreaded circuit of treadmill, cross trainer, bike and rowing machine.
I didn’t have time to do me weights or stretching as I had an appointment with 25 over sized ladies in the pool.
Bulging bellies and strappy tan markings, tattoos and perms descended into the pool. Each and everyone of the 26 athletes complained, for at least 15 minutes all saying the same thing.
‘Its colder than last week.’
‘It’s really cold’
‘It’s so cold I’m shivering’
‘God this pool is cold.’
‘Have you noticed that the pool is colder than last week?’
Okay to be fair it would have ripped the spheres of a brass monkey but with a little grin and bearing the body temperature was upped within five minutes.
And then there was 25….one woman, in a costume with shorts attached climbed out, her teeth chattering so loudly I could hear them above the splashing. The teacher – who was wearing oversized track suit bottoms and a polo shirt to cover her substantial frame, sent the shivering Esther Williams back to the changing rooms.
And then there was 24, as a bathing belle sloshed up the stairs to complain to the manager.
I’d done a session in the diving pool on Monday. Had a huge blue float strapped around my waist. I kept falling forward.
‘PULL YOUR STOMACH IN’ shouted a chorus of cigarette smoking Sirens.
We jogged and jumped, touched toes and bobbed about like egg-men.
This morning the work out was the same, but the pool was only 1 meter deep. The icy waves came just above my shoulders.
The teacher is as lack lustre as the music. Cover versions of Lady Gaga, Adele and boy bands, remixed to a tinny beat. To my surprise the chorus of women – average age 57 – sungalongaGaga, and accompanied Adele. Not only were they singing ‘Rolling in the Deep’ they were literally rolling in the deep. I think Adele may well have turned in a watery grave had she seen our efforts to synchronise our rippling bodies.
Given the tonnage in the pool, for the first time in my life, I looked like Kate Moss.
Only one moment of embarrassment, as I jogged energetically my right gazonga had escaped my black swimming costume and was rolling in the deep independently.
I’ve done two sessions now, and followed my circuit. My doctor is giving me a ten week recommendation so that I get a discount on account of me diabetes. But that wont start until after I return from the States.
Yup it’s finally happening. If it doesn’t you lot will be the first to know.
Olly smith and I are off to Oregon and Northern California to film wine and food for the Travel Channel.
Then I’m back to sit in for Vanessa.
Then it’s out again to California and San Francisco, for more wine and food.
By which time it will be mid November and I’ll be back on the treadmill…..
I’ve got to pack for wet, bucolic, dry and sun. I’ve got to take frocks for fancy restaurants and dungarees for vineyards. I’ve got to take a book that will put me to sleep and a book that will keep me awake.
I’ve got to pack lenses, make-up, and a charger for my phone. I will probably need my driving license so that when Olly and I transmute into Thelma and Louise I will be able to do a three point turn in Willamette, thats a vineyard not fancy pyjamas.
It’s been at least 6 years since I’ve faced a camera proper and made jokes into a lens. My face has aged and my head is different, but I’ll be working with a producer I know and two execs that I love.
So it’s onwards and upwards.
Bearing in mind I hardly drink, and my taste in food has changed it’ll be interesting to see what I make of Michelin starred munching US style.
It’s now nearly 3pm. I’ve had very little sleep. Didn’t get off until 5.00 this morning. I’m reading a wonderful book which so scares me – its a kind of intelligent Gothic Horror but the Old Git is in Bath so I had nobody to protect me from my own imagination. To clear my head I had to start another book, a Rom Com. It’s not the best book in the world, the outcome is predictable but I couldn’t put it down.
How I managed to get out of bed this morning is beyond me. I did though. Four hours of sleep and I was practically raring to go….
I’ve got everything for a hot spicy butternut squash soup on the chopping board in the kitchen, but I’ve got to get out there and mow the lawn, the grass is as high as my ankle, which let me tell you has a youthful turn at the moment. It’s all that cycling and deep rolling. The ‘oosbind won’t recognise me when he gets home
But to be honest I think I may just slip into a hot honey bath and finish the book. I really do need to know whether he walks again and whether she finally leaves her long term partner or whether he takes that fatal trip to Switzerland.
Told you it was predictable.
Okay tea drunk, blog written, feet cold and tap running.