Mucus, mucus everywhere

Well, that was some cold - practically 'man-flu' I'd say: head filled with glue, throat of barbed wire and the energy levels of a fossilized earthworm.  Naturally it was the perfect excuse to let my new inner fitness freak slide (it doesn't take much).  Still, copious amounts of green jasmine tea and several boxes of tissues later, I could no longer convince the family that I was close to death by mucus, and I dragged my sorry butt back to the gym for a personal trainer 'try-out'.

My PT, Abbi was very bubbly and listened patiently as I listed my health problems and medications (multiple endocrine neoplasia 2a, hypoadrenalism, bionic shoulder, sore hips, steroids, levothyroxine, vitamin D, calcium carbonate, omeprazole, diclofenac.....).  'What do you want to get out of your training?' she asked.  Now, I have a good college friend who is a PT and I know that everyone answers the same; 'lose weight and tone up' is the standard reply.

'Lose weight and tone up so that I can walk 100km through the Sahara' I said.  I think that may have brightened her long day slightly - it certainly made her do a double-take.

My insistance that I was slightly fragile due to my head cold seemed to go unheard by Abbi and I obediently tried some new fangled equipment that is a cross between a cross-trainer and a running machine.  No, it is not in the slightest bit possible to look elegant on this contraption and I was lucky I didn't go flying off the back of it - I hung on for dear life for the full 10 minutes and fully acknowledged the burning pain in my posterior at the end.  A few more familiar cardiovascular exercise machines followed together with a couple of leg weight machines.  I can't really do weight-bearing exercises with my bionic shoulder so the legs get the punishment (sadly, bionic parts bear no relation to anything seen when watching the 6 Million Dollar Man - more like the 1 Penny Woman in fact).  It's a shame really because I'd rather like to nip the developing 'bingo-wings' in the bud!  After some rather painful manipulated stretches on the floor where my hamstrings were proclaimed to be rather 'tight' I was free to go.  Off I limped into the night.....

I had certainly earned my glass of wine this time!