Shhhh… come closer … a little closer … there …  okay …  there is good:  I think my ‘friend’ M is trying to do me harm!  I have not lost my mind. However, I almost lost my life. 

As you may recall, since I’ve begun my ‘fit by 40’ thing my friend M has been extra helpful in aiding me in my efforts to get into shape (if you don’t remember, then please read “Fit by 40” before going any further).  I’m not in bad shape.  I am simply in need of a tune up.  Anyways, as I said, M has a plan to do me harm.

Since the first time I accepted her invitation to a ‘stretch’ class, which I might add made medieval torture seem like quite the civilized affair, I keep getting weekly messages from M inviting me to return.  Well, you would think that after the disaster of the first class I would have learned my lesson.  Ha!  I wish I had.

Two weeks ago I took it upon myself to join M at another ‘stretch’ class.  The class was led by the same demon-woman as before, so you know things began gently before turning into a nightmare.   One minute I was slowly reaching down to touch my toes, then stretching my arms above my head.  The next minute the demon-woman had me jumping about, alternating between sit-ups and push-ups and goodness knows what else.   The woman had me sweating like a race horse that just finished running the Grand National Derby!  I am a lady.  Granted I do admit that I perspire and sometimes heavily so when jogging.  But, lawd-ah-mussy!!! This was ridiculous.  And the whole time I was watching M from the corner of my eye.

I saw M was struggling as much as I was.  But, I swear to you each time the demon-woman walked over to lend us a hand, I could feel M’s joy!   Then at the end of the class, M happily skipped to her car to go home.  As she skipped I dragged my abused self the 10 feet from the building to my car.  It took me about seven minutes to make the journey.

Somehow, through divine intervention my car was guided home.  I’m not sure how I came to make it from the garage into my house, but by the grace of all that is good, I made it.  I made it all the way to plonking my sweating, stinking self onto the couch where I then lay panting for the next hour like a beached whale.

I felt ill.  My vision was blurred.  There was not a part of me that didn’t feel beaten.  Then all of a sudden I had a moment of clarity: maybe the clothes drier wasn’t actually responsible for the new snug fit of my knickers. And maybe M wasn’t actually trying to hurt me.  Maybe my recent cookie baking (and eating) had contributed to a few extra pounds.  And maybe M really was trying to get me fit again.

Moments later I somehow climbed the stairs to my bedroom and tried to comfort myself with these new thoughts. Unfortunately, I still wasn’t able to sleep well that might.  I couldn’t get comfortable as every movement inspired new pains to shoot through my body.

Well, would you believe that the next morning – before 7:00a.m.! – I received a text message from M asking how I was feeling.  This woman even had the nerve to punctuate her message with a ‘smiley face’.   Truly, I wondered if M was a reincarnation of one of those women from Revolutionary France who sat watching people being guillotined while tending to their knitting without ever dropping a stitch.    And that was when I made a decision:  I would to return to my gym where sane people exercised as well as also hide from M.

This past week I returned to my routine of jogging and weight training.  I am feeling much better doing this.   Coincidentally, my clothes drier seems to be working properly now as my knickers and things no longer seem to fit so snuggly about the hips.  I wonder what M and the demon-woman would have to say about that. 🙂

Laters & G’Night,

Mantha

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