Well hello there...

Welcome to my blog. Brb... I'm making memories (read as: Wine. I'm going to get some wine...)

Hell. Exercise is hell.

Hell. Exercise is hell.

So on Saturday night after a few glasses of wine, I come across something called the “The Betty Rocker 30 day Challenge”, where you receive one 15 minute workout video per day for 30 days, and you have to commit. I was all "how bad can it be, it's 15 minutes"... oh Natasha Natasha Natasha... what an ignorant little fool you are. (Sidenote: Nothing good can come from a decision made after some (read: a lot of) wine!) Why I would even THINK that 15 minutes is “nothing really”. I have no idea. Possibly too much cell phone usage has rotted my brain because coming from someone who does NO exercises at all, this statement is rich. Like, reaching down from the couch to grab my wine, I count as one yoga move completed and that is the extent of my workouts…

So I get all inspired. Put on my bikini, to take “Before” photos, and have two thoughts enter my brain. One: Sheezus Natasha, you are not in an 80’s porn movie, groom that shit!, and secondly: When did my bum start looking like puppies fighting in a pillowcase!!

So anyhoo, I put this video on yesterday with a smile on my face all ready to go. Ava is standing next to me laughing her arse off and trying to do the exercises with me, which really just means I had to dodge her constant fly-kicks to my face. Fast forward 3 more minutes and my glasses are off (they kept steaming up) I have hair in my eyes, I am sopping wet from sweat and I am wheezing like an asthmatic weasel. Shaking like a leaf, have pulled a fat and convinced that I was going towards the light!

Ava’s happy laughing turned into her rushing from the bathroom and back with one of her little teacups full of water for me, and gently rubbing my shoulder saying “You going to be Ok mamma”.

Shit got real yo!

Fast forward to today. I hurt everywhere. That is all.

I am having to drop myself onto the toilet and hope my arse aim is true or Im going to fold up like a concertina between the bath and toilet, and to be honest that is where I will lie for the rest of the fucking day because my muscles will NOT help remove me! There is no lowering myself down like a normal person, oh no no no.

My armpits hurt. Don’t know why.

I cannot walk down the stairs. Going up, a labour but do able. Going down. Oh fuck no. I’m living on the first floor of wherever I have to go today for the next few days.

I fear my new video today. Like, these are actual tears. I’d lift my arm to wipe them away but that would mean I have to move.

On another note. Sorry Dalekins, this general area *waves hand around crotch* is staying all 80’s porn because shaving would require me to do more than breath right now.

Things that don’t hurt: My vagina. My fingernails. My hair.

Jesus take the wheel.

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New year, new arse! ...again.

New year, new arse! ...again.

Fifty Shades - In the Real world

Fifty Shades - In the Real world