Its blowing a gale and we have just had a little earthquake (4.4 on the Richter scale according to Twitter!) Its lunchtime at work so I thought i would write my entry today as I am likely to be asleep by 7.30 this evening.Yes, folks, finally managed to make it to the wretched gym with Siobhan at o'christ o'clock this morning.
Out into sub zero temperatures (well maybe a slight exageration), we ventured, got to the gym and it took a good 10 minutes solid exercising before I defrosted. The gym is alot like Crown Casino - no-one ever looks truly happy to be there! Anyway, schlepped on the treadmill and stationary bike then attempted pretzel like manouvres on the floor. Have found that absence from the gym and a penchant for gorgeous foodstuffs has made the pretzel impersonations more aspirational than actual in execution so I have my work cut out for me. But then anyone who has seen me recently knows that anyway.
I need to keep this gym business going though so that come Cinque Terre time, my short stubby legs with my netballed and lacrossed knees, wont give up the ghost, mid terre. I live in hope.
Last night was reading "My Almafi Coast" by a Tabbarer daughter - cant recall which one though. Her book is full of beautiful photos of the coast, its people and the places to enjoy. I think it was this book that provided the impetus for me to catapult (again, another slight exageration) out of bed this morning in sheer determination to offset fututre carb loading that I have no doubt I will be forced to do in Italy. The book mentions so many long standing ristorantes that are a must when visiting the area.
You may have noticed a recurrent theme in my posts - food. Love to cook it and love to eat it . I just think it is so damn unfair of the science world and our hedonistic society with its unregulated system of attraction, that it allows two, albeit very lovely people, (both of average build but with a strong propensity to store fat cells around the thighs, buttocks and tummy) to be able to procreate without thought or consideration for how their progeny are going to combat this life long curse, whilst maintaining a love affair of all things cuisine (except for offal).
I am cursed forever, flayling around in this gene pool and no amount of treadmill time, nor deprivation diets will fundamentally alter the shape I am destined to be. However, should I win the $30mill in mid July, then I am off to have it sucked, lifted, tucked, redistributed and if its at all surgically possible, a procedure that embedds some kind of permanent stillhetto into my refashioned feet to afford me permanent height!
In the event that we dont win the $30mill, then I will simply have to reconcile myself to the fact that at least for 10 weeks I can blame the indulgence and the inevitable weight gain on Italy and the cultural imperative that food plays in its culture. To abstain would be impolite
Ciao Bellas.
Kelly
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