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Showing posts from January, 2014

Fab at Forty - ten months and counting

As the first month of the year is limping to a close, I thought I’d update on the Fab at Forty plan. I’ve succeeded in the Dry January challenge.   Well, counting chickens really, but at lunchtime on the last day of the month I think I’m safe to say I’ll make it!   Sister was very keen that I kept my participation in Dry January quiet for fear of sounding like Oliver Reed (showing my age again).   I don’t usually drink very much, so it wasn’t a hardship, and I’m glad that for once I’ve met a challenge like that.   Many a Lent has seen me break a giving up pledge! The fitness side is taking shape (no pun intended!) and I’m going to Zumba twice a week run by the lovely Ellen at http://www.heatonefitness.co.uk .   I absolutely love it.   I could only go once this week due to work commitments and I missed it.   The only downside is the Zumba high on the night when the class finishes at 9pm – reasonable bedtime is futile!   I’ve even bought some new trainers, so I must be serious.

Lunchtimes are a window on the world.

Where I used to work, lunchtimes didn’t really exist.   There was an occasional downing of tools and natter about this, that and the other, but leaving the building was rare.    And that’s not to say there wasn’t enough in the town centre if one wanted to pass an hour, particularly if one wanted a pastry based lunch.   I did have to pass an Asda Superstore on my way home though, and that did get visits aplenty.   They must have wept when I left the old place, their profits must have really nosedived.   When I say I visits aplenty, let me expand by saying Daughter thought her name was George for some time. But now I work in a town centre, and life outside the office is there to marvel at. Regular readers will have already heard of the lure of Marks & Spencer and other emporiums.   I know this is a bit of a recurring theme (see Reverse Ambition in the archives), but I stare at this outside life agog, mentally like a child drooling in a sweetshop window.   There are people shoppi

Fab at Forty

2014 is the year I turn 40.   Not until the end of 2014, I’m at pains to make clear, but it is the year nonetheless.   So, it’s time to follow through with a pledge that I threw out there in the heady days of summer…to be a size 12 by I’m 40.   With 11 months and counting, there’s no time to lose.   I haven’t made any other resolutions, because quite frankly, this will take all my efforts. So, L and I have set about our plans.   L isn’t 40 until 2015, but being a good friend she’s joining me on the journey.   If shaping up happened by planning alone, we’d be a pair of supermodels.   But alas it appears to require more moving and less eating.   Pah. We’re extremely accomplished at talking about our fitness plans.   There are some plans to get running gathering dust, and L’s lovely and super-fit husband P has offered plans and chaperoning on dark nights.   We’ll get round to it.   I fear we have the potential to be fair-weather runners.   I’m more likely to be fair-weather shuf