The return of the sick note!

Once again I have been away for a while... This is partly because I've now lost confidence in my ability to write something anyone will want to read and because I've been ill again!

It all started a couple of weeks ago. I was forcing myself to the gym every night of the week. I was starting to feel smug as I left the office each day with my gym bag over my shoulder and clenching my buttocks as I left in a bid to show all my work colleagues how tight the buns were getting. Unfortunately in my bid to become a gym bunny I was exhausted. Every morning I came in to work confidently plonking my gym bag down and putting my plastic container of fruit that I had bought from the cafe near work onto my desk. But rather confusingly I was being greeted with concerned faces asking if I was alright because I looked ill and tired. I would smile back at them confirming that I was simply exhausted by my work out the night before. As the days went on each morning was the same and by Thursday I was dragging myself to the gym at the end of the day repeating in my head "no pain no gain". By Friday I felt like death. I was now feeling dizzy and slightly spaced out. "This is how fit people feel" I thought. It was very likely my brain was simply rejecting my new found healthiness and was trying to tell my body that I was not feeling well ... in fact I was fit and healthy... and possibly developing proper calf muscles. By lunchtime I was thinking "hmmm maybe I just need some sweets to make me feel less dizzy". I am convinced my body does actually need some bad stuff going into my system regularly and I was obviously detoxing. But I needed to get through the afternoon. I went to the shop and bought a huge bag of sour haribos. These are the sweets that make your eyelids sweat because of the sourness of them but which you can't stop eating when you start. Salt and vinegar crisps have the same effect on me. I did think it was a little unusual I ate the whole bag of sweets in about 10 minutes as despite my love of food I'm not mad on sweets. I prefer savoury stuff.

By 5 pm I thought I think I'll knock the gym and go home for a sleep I was really not feeling very well. I would make up for the gym on the weekend and would go on both Saturday and Sunday. I got in the front door and put on a pizza which I whoofed down as soon as it was out of the oven. I then decided sleep was overcoming me remarkably quickly and I laid down on the sofa. 3 hours later I awoke to a terrible feeling of sickness. I tried to get up but instead found myself rolling onto the floor and promptly started to gag. As I started to be sick I realised how ill I felt and tried to crawl to the toilet. 2 hours later I was still crawling backwards and forwards to the toilet puking all the sweets etc I had eaten. If only I had not eaten so much!!! Eventually I spoke to my mum and decided to call the doctor. I did so and an ambulance then arrived! As I opened the door two young men came in and tried to talk to me whilst I was busy answering in monosyllables between moments of puking into my washing up bowl. Never have I felt so attractive!!! The ambulance men told me the doctor was on her way but they would stay with me in the meantime. They asked if I lived on my own or if they could call my mum. I immediately burst into tears saying my mum lives in England. At this point they asked how old I was and I replied 31. The ambulance man then laughed saying "Oh god I was feeling really sorry for you there I thought you were only 17!". I ignored him.

By the time the doctor arrived I was lying on the floor unable to move continually puking. She informed me that she thought I had the Norwalk virus. She sat beside me as I puked asking me the following questions:

1. "So basically you just woke up and started to chunder?" - The word "chunder" should never be used to someone who is struggling to stop being sick... the word alone makes me feel like something is rising in my throat.
2. "So have you eaten alot today?" "yes" "Oh dear that means you have probably got a good few more hours of chundering!" - This again is not a positive thing to say to someone who is wishing she would just die rather than continuing to be sick".
3. "Well we could admit you into hospital. You could be put in the ward with all the other people who have this virus - we've closed it off - a kind of quarantine. Do you want to go?" "No... puking... I can't think of anything worse... puking... then being with ... puking... a load of people... puking ... who have the same thing..."
4."Shall I give you an anti-sickness injection.. may help but may not... Yes? Ok well you are actually in the perfect position... stay there... just a little scratch." As she jabbed the injection into my bum whilst I had my head over a bowl and my bum in the air I can tell you it was not a little scratch! What a cow!

Eventually she left and for the next 8 hours every 20 minutes I was being sick. In other words there was no maybe about it the injection did not work. I was told I had to be quarantined so no one could visit me. My landlady came in to see me and immediately put her scarf over her mouth to avoid my contagiousness. Over the next week various lovely friends brought over things that I needed... god knows why but I have never needed ice lollies so much. I lived on them. Work called telling me they did not want me in but they would like to cargo some files over to me so I could work from home... how kind of them!! As the days went on my stomach continued to churn and I happily noticed that I was not that hungry.. the norwalk virus diet was working..Note this was only temporary though and as soon as I ate normally the weight attached to my hips as normal!

On Monday I went back into work informing everyone I was no longer contagious and I was fighting fit! I even went to the gym! By Tuesday I felt like I was dying a slow painful death. As I arrived in at work I soon realised I needed to be in bed. I went to the doctor and then drove home. Instead of my normal going to the sofa and lying in agony under a duvet. I went to bed for the whole day. I awoke in the darkness and realised I must be feeling really terrible to not even be able to stomach day time Tv. You know that lovely feeling of smugness you get knowing that everyone is at work and you are under a duvet watching various live television phone ins on the important issues such as "sex for the over seventies", "dealing with the trauma of memory loss" and "gardening tips for a rainy summer" with various experts giving us 30 seconds of advice before cutting off the caller mid question and moving on to the next caller Sue for Somerset.

On Wednesday I dragged myself into work again and spent the rest of the week fighting a bloated stomach after I ate anything at lunchtime. I am finally now starting to feel myself. Well myself minus the gym... my old self! And so it makes me wonder how is that as soon as I start trying to be ultra healthy does it always make me ill? Perhaps I should just embrace my unhealthiness as yet another fault I cannot change...or I can change but which would ultimately make me ill. Hmmm think I'll ponder on that over a bag of crips!

I want to be Gym Bunny!

If you have the Rocky theme tune anywhere in your CD collection please insert and play Eye of the Tiger or the Rocky theme tune to the first few paragraphs

You are probably wondering why I've suggested that you listen to the Rocky anthems and it is for one reason only...your blogger is getting fit! Well I say getting fit I'm not necessarily getting fit but I have joined a gym! This is a huge feat for me as many of you will know my natural instinct is to be lazy. This means that every one single thing I do in life is an effort or a chore. However, in a bid not to become one of those people who is confined to their house as they are too large to get through the front door I have decided drastic action needs to be taken. I need to at least try to get a body that I'm remotely proud of! At age hmmm hmmm, ok at age 31 I've decided this may be my last chance!

So 2 weeks ago I found myself walking into my local gym red faced and exhausted just looking at the men pumping their pecks in the room nearest the reception desk and asking how to join up. Assuming that I would no doubt not be a member for a great deal of time I decided to join up for a month with my friend. This prevented any possibility of me being locked into a 12 month contract for a gym membership that I am unable to cancel and which then causes huge amounts of guilt every time I walk past the gym. Which as it happens would be a regular occurence as the gym is approximately 13 steps away from my office where I work and next door to the place that supplies my daily lattes! As I signed up for the month I immediately decided the lifting of the pen to fill in the relevant form was enough work and exercise for the first day and my friend and I decided we would go to the induction the following day! The next day arrived and I was exhausted just thinking about it let alone walking the 3 flights of stairs to the changing room but after an hour long induction on the various machines from rowing machines, tread mills to cross trainers with their complicated computer screens and about 45 buttons to play with per machine I had managed to get through the induction which ended with a series of stretches... which I should add hurt somewhat!

The following day dressed in our gym stuff (which is not flattering to anyone unless you are fit first! I will never understand why lycra is a necessity for every gym goer regardless of the cellulite creeping through!) my friend and I went to the room that we decided would be the room we went to each time. This room is perfect for every self conscious, body image hating, depressive gym goer as it is a room in semi darkness save for the small disco ball which flashes lights around the room in various colours. The best thing about this room is that it is dark which disguises any lumps and bumps and your red face that is glowing in the light of the disco ball.

I decided I would start with the bike. I optimistically got onto the bike and started to pedal. "This is not too bad at all" I said to myself as I watched the screens playing the latest euro pop dance anthems. Ok this is not my preferred choice of music but my normal choice is lazy and slow like my mood and therefore not exactly conducive to sweating and exercise! After 2 minutes of cycling I reached for my water and thought to myself "hmmm this is getting a little harder now but I must keep going". I glanced up at the screens focusing on the bikini clad bodies dancing around in front of me in the music videos. Just got to keep focused! I want a body like that! By minute 3 however I had decided that God hates me and that electric shocks were being pumped into the muscles in my limbs. My body started to cease up. I tried to mentally focus and tell myself the lines Rocky once used "NO PAIN, NO GAIN". I repeated this in my head a few times until even my brain was struggling for energy. I'm in hell! My chubby legs tried to continue the fluid motion of cycling but every repetition caused further pain and I wondered if I had actually got any fitness in my limbs at all! I tried another tact. I focused on the idea that my muscles were pushing through the chubbiness... itching to get out and be lean. But after 5 minutes I was losing the will to live and staggered from there to the cross-trainer whilst guzzling the whole bottle of water I had with me. I turned to look at one of the other girls who appeared to be wearing a pristine pink track suit with what I can only describe as the most perfectly formed pair of buns I had ever seen and her pony tail bobbing up and down whilst my sweat soaked hair stuck to my head. Without even a shortness of breath she bounced up and down on the cross trainer looking as though she was actually feeling no pain whatsoever and it was quite fun! Immediate thought... weirdo! What is wrong with her? She smiled at me. But my own lips were sticking to my teeth from all the exercise so I just about managed to raise an eyebrow before realising that even my eyebrows now hurt.

After 40 minutes of sheer hell and hatred welling up inside me I left the gym with my friend. We decided we would do our stretches in the main room with lights! How brave! As we arrived at the part of the gym where people do floor exercises and stretches we were greeted by a very flexible elastic band type of woman who was lying on the floor and throwing her legs over her head. We immediately looked at each other in horror and decided that we would do our pointless stretches in the dressing room.

Arriving at the dressing room we started to stretch out! God I sound like a gym bunny already! As we did so I noted from the corner of my eye someone walking out of the shower. Now don't get me wrong I am entirely comfortable with people loving themselves and feeling comfortable in their own skins but is it really necessary in gym changing rooms for women to leave the shower completely naked whilst holding their folded up towel in their hands rather than covering up their bodies? I tried to avert my eyes but as soon as I did this lady immediately stood directly in front of my eye view and proceeded to moisturise every part of her body. I mean every part. No crevice was left unmoist. I could not do anything other than to pretend to close my eyes whilst feeling the stretch! But even with my eyes closed I felt as though I had seen something I shouldn't have. A vivid image. I hadn't even seen my own body in that much detail and to be honest I wouldn't want to and yet here and now I had a full front, back and almost insides of a woman I had never met! Worst still who I would no doubt see again as it is such a small place in Jersey! Oh my God what if she came in one day and was one of my clients?

From that first visit to the gym I made a conscious effort not to change anywhere in the vicinity of "nakey women". I now go in to the changing rooms eyes half covered to protect them and walk into the toilet, lock the door, cover my eyes, put my stuff in the locker, cover my eyes and walk down the stairs to the safety of the dark room. I'm telling you now if I see Ms perfect buns naked I will probably shoot myself but for now I'm covering all my bases in the hope that I don't have to see anymore flesh and will for the foreseeable future cover my eyes until I least feel my buns are half as bulbous as they are now.

I have now been to the gym 6 times. It is getting marginally easier and I'm forcing myself to get my one month money's worth. I can honestly say I'll never love it but I want to be that person. I want to enjoy the gym and feel naturally energetic. I don't think it will ever happen but I desperately want to be a gym bunny!