Recovering from winter

An exercise regime to rival training for iron man and a rigourous diet have been the name of the game this week. I have run my feet bare, even though the salesman who was convincing me that it is ok to spend so much on running shoes promised that these would not give me blisters, here i am after three years of owning the shoes still try to break them in (somewhat like one might break in an unruly room mate . . . Pea i am not talking about you). As part of my newly self inflicted torture regime  includeds running to town, a half an hour swim at local pool, this is made difficult by the fact that i am still not sure yet whether my name is actually on the list of members as when i was trying to sign up for it no one would take my money but the all seemed very happy to put my name on the list, and then finally i walk to wok where i try to recover in time to wlak home in the afternoon. So on my first day i head out not sure that i will actually be able to get into the pool as i have forgotten the code for the gate, when i arrive there as red as rudlofs nose after a bad tanning session and breathing like the world had run out of oxygen i casually ask a ground staff memeber who was about to enter "whats the code i seem to have forgotten"  i then try to scan all the cars to see if i can recognise what i think might be the trainners car . . . all clear so i sneak in and get into the pool as quickly as possible and then just keep my head down. I swim in a wetsuit with short legs and long arms, what is the significance of this you ask ? Well it simply is that this is also what i run down in covered by just a short sleeve shirt, winter has not been kind to me and so i fill out the wetsuit quite comfortably and so i imagine must look rather like a tubby seal running on two legs, if you see me let me know what you think. Just another perk of my new life style is that food has now become a luxary that i cannot afford to eat. I would be fighting a loosing battle if i allowed my body the food it needs, we have come to the agreement that when it learns not to hang on to every morsel its given then i shall start to give it food again. It has only been two days but i am already walking like an 80 year old man. Another grievance i have with new lot in life is middle age to old women thinking that they are attractive enough to just chill in their birthday suits in the change rooms, i'm sure that at that age even their husbands dont particularly enjoy seeing them like that. I have the decency to squirm around in my towel, tie my arms into a knot and 9 out 10 time kick my toe on the bech leg just so that you dont have to see a square centermeter of inappropriate nakedness, why can't you do the same? If you have decided to take up the crazy cause of getting bikini ready i say; good on you, i know your pain and we will get there together and for now just face the wall and keep squirming, they say you can't teach old dogs new tricks but i'm really hoping the ladies at my pool are the expection to the rule.