exhausted
There was a sign up in the park inviting people to come along to a supervised workout, with instructions on using the equipment. I only bloody went, and nearly perished. Only one other woman turned up, not nearly as fat as I am, and at least 15 years younger. The instructor, a wiry Polish ex-boxer made us RUN. Of course, I can barely walk, but she prevailed. 'Just keep MOVING', so I stumbled, gasped, and limped around as best I could.,and she let me go on the cross trainer instead, for a while, when I explained I was having trouble keeping my balance. There was more hideous aerobic stuff, and then we did the machines, which I can cope with pretty well, by now. ('You strong!') I honestly thought I was going to die, though. Just Too Much. (I'd done my usual morning torture as well-) Still, after some recovery time, I felt reasonably good. May go again next week (Or not.) I'm probably going to be totally crippled in the morning.
Got a copy of the report on my latest hospital visit, which began 'This 65-year-old pleasant lady...' and for some reaon, I thought 'Bite me!'. It seemed patronising, which just indicates how generally paranoid, I am, I suppose. After all, I wouldn't have been best pleased if he'd said 'this unpleasant hag'...
