I have a gym fairy! And it is safe to say that the un-fatness plan is back on with a
vengeance as a result. Because not only did the gym fairy have me doing unnatural things with an oversized beach ball at the gym this morning, but she also gave me horrified looks when I straightened the edges of the chocolate torte we had for pudding this evening. (I do admit, it was the third time I’d felt the need to straighten the edges, but I’m sure I read somewhere that Sunday calories don’t count….)
Yes, my gym fairy is Sister 1. For such a little thing she is terribly ferocious. I may not be able to move tomorrow as a direct result of this ferociousness (‘Yes Pog, you CAN do another 298 sit ups while balanced backwards over this huge overly bouncy ball. No, I will NOT let you only do another 297. 298 or it doesn’t count…’).
Still, at least if I do end up stuck in bed and unable to move I wont be able to get to the chocolate cupboard… :o)
NB: The gym fairy may not be quite as ferocious as I have made out. Almost, but not quite ;o)