Owwwww! I ache. I ache a lot. So much for feeling smug yesterday upon not aching after a decent run at the gym on Monday evening. The "forward bends" yoga class has destroyed my thigh muscles. I could feel the pain setting in last night while watching Battlestar Galactica, gazing in admiration and wonder at Jamie Bamber's arm muscles. (Seriously, they're amazing. And he got a first from Cambridge. Why weren't there arm muscles like that on my fellow students when I was at university?) A hot bath did nothing to stop the stiffness, so getting out of bed to make a cup of tea was unpleasant.
To distract me from the pain in my thighs, I've decided to break in my new NINE-DOLLAR 3-inch heels from the US. This is a great idea! By mid-afternoon, I shall be sitting at my desk, gently rocking back and forwards as I rub my mashed toes and strained calves, thigh ache completely forgotten.
It's a good job I don't conform to society's brutal standards of beauty and therefore don't have to suffer for fashion. Oh no.
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