Buggered Beyond Belief

Today i did a very stupid thing. All in the name of a chocolate digestive. And a dress i want to buy for The Wedding Of The Century.

I donned a pair of takkies, chucked on my gym pants (bought for slouching around the house splashing bolognaise and Ben & Jerry's on), plugged Ibiza Annual 2006 into my ears and then, for the first time in 8 years, i started to run. Yes run. That thing i only do when i know McDonalds is closing or i'm being approached by some guy outside CentreCourt who wants me to sign up for paintball. I ran. And ran. And ran. For like 500m. The rest of the way was power walking. Let's not get ahead of ourselves now - it has been a while and Little Miss 20-A-Day was not feeling too happy. I think i felt every last Marlboro to have ever nestled into my precious little alveoli scraping it's merry way upwards as my eyes bulged and i gasped like a dying goat. My arms had pins and needles in them for the entire duration (an HOUR i'll have you know) and my fingers swelled up like a pack of Cumberland sausages. That can't be a healthy sign can it? But in all this i must tell you that not once did i stop. And when i eventually turned around and headed home (for fear of dropping dead alongside a wheatfield in the middle of nowhere, twitching in a fresh roadkill manner, and never being found unless a family of foxes happened to drag me to the front step of the nearest pub) i realised i had earned a biscuit (according to my weightwatchers book) and by the time i got home i would have earned two.

I'm bloody stupid. But then I'm going to look like a million dollars in that dress. Not like i'm trying to make an impact on anyone... or anything... per se.