My sister is in the throes of getting fit. Every time I talk to her all I hear is a stream of dialogue that may as well be saying:
"Fitness!! and 1, and 2 and 3 and Run! and 1 and 2 and 3 and mus-cle! and 1 and 2 and 3, I feel like an ath-lete!"
And then I turn to her and groan: "Stop talking about fit-ness!"
Bless her, she stops for a millisecond and then grins: "I'm not just talking about fit-ness!"
She knows very well she is.
From past experience I know that being in the throes of getting fit is addictive once you've estabished a routine and some equally inspired-to-get-fit buddies to help you along the way. My own experiences have been varied.
Like the time I used to run laps on the front lawn under the watchful eye of my sister (who at that time wasn't in the throes of getting fit) and with each lap, I'd gasp:
"Do I look like (insert the name of the school's cross country champion for 1998) when I run?"
"Fitness!! and 1, and 2 and 3 and Run! and 1 and 2 and 3 and mus-cle! and 1 and 2 and 3, I feel like an ath-lete!"
And then I turn to her and groan: "Stop talking about fit-ness!"
Bless her, she stops for a millisecond and then grins: "I'm not just talking about fit-ness!"
She knows very well she is.
From past experience I know that being in the throes of getting fit is addictive once you've estabished a routine and some equally inspired-to-get-fit buddies to help you along the way. My own experiences have been varied.
Like the time I used to run laps on the front lawn under the watchful eye of my sister (who at that time wasn't in the throes of getting fit) and with each lap, I'd gasp:
"Do I look like (insert the name of the school's cross country champion for 1998) when I run?"
Or like the time my sister and I used to jog the streets of our suburb at the crack of dawn, pre- breakfast-- and every day we would be hit with cramping bowels as we conquered the hill from hell.
Or like the time I decided dancing to pop music was best, and so every day the radio would be as high as it could go, and I did star jumps and dance moves interspersed with handstands to work on the all important "upper body strength".
With all my efforts to establish my own fitness routine, I find that the going gets tough in winter and hibernate until the summer warmth inspires me to sweat and stretch some more. For my sister, living in the city has meant that she has additional means to "slot in" extra fitness opportunities at any given time:
"So now what I do is I wake up, then I walk to the gym (which for the record is a good 25 minute walk from her place) and then I work out. Then I walk to work! Then I have breakfast at my desk!"
Add to that, last week she did the Bay Run and this weekend she was pushing for the Bondi to Bronte walk:
"You wanna? It's only a couple of hours! And then there's a cafe we can stop at!"
I weighed up the fun factor and the fact that my Saturday was otherwise free. Plus, I had to admit, her persistence had won me over- so I agreed.
Unluckily, the howling winds of Saturday meant that our joint attempt at combining "fitness and fun!" was not to be. Instead, we did a mammoth walk which probably equalled the Bondi to Bronte walk:
Glebe to Pizza e Birra (Surry Hills) to Pitt Street Mall to Wynward.
By the end of the day, we were both smashed. In a good way. This morning, when I woke up all I could hear was my sister's parting words as we went our separate ways yesterday:
"I'm going to the gym tomorrow morning"
and so I put on my running shoes and went for a long stroll around my hood and ended it by conquering the hill from hell.
Some photos:
Or like the time I decided dancing to pop music was best, and so every day the radio would be as high as it could go, and I did star jumps and dance moves interspersed with handstands to work on the all important "upper body strength".
With all my efforts to establish my own fitness routine, I find that the going gets tough in winter and hibernate until the summer warmth inspires me to sweat and stretch some more. For my sister, living in the city has meant that she has additional means to "slot in" extra fitness opportunities at any given time:
"So now what I do is I wake up, then I walk to the gym (which for the record is a good 25 minute walk from her place) and then I work out. Then I walk to work! Then I have breakfast at my desk!"
Add to that, last week she did the Bay Run and this weekend she was pushing for the Bondi to Bronte walk:
"You wanna? It's only a couple of hours! And then there's a cafe we can stop at!"
I weighed up the fun factor and the fact that my Saturday was otherwise free. Plus, I had to admit, her persistence had won me over- so I agreed.
Unluckily, the howling winds of Saturday meant that our joint attempt at combining "fitness and fun!" was not to be. Instead, we did a mammoth walk which probably equalled the Bondi to Bronte walk:
Glebe to Pizza e Birra (Surry Hills) to Pitt Street Mall to Wynward.
By the end of the day, we were both smashed. In a good way. This morning, when I woke up all I could hear was my sister's parting words as we went our separate ways yesterday:
"I'm going to the gym tomorrow morning"
and so I put on my running shoes and went for a long stroll around my hood and ended it by conquering the hill from hell.
Some photos:
Ms MamaChameleon whispers sweet nothings to her roses and they grow to the size of your palm:
We spotted a model shoot in Hyde Park:
Miss DB and Miss BecM on a magnifique Spring day:
Night Noodle Markets:
Bicycle Wall Art at Pizza e Birra. The waiter bid us farewell with a: "Ciao! Ciao bella!" and we were charmed.
My sister- "full of win" and pizza (and fitness):
Sparkle cupcakes!
The biggest dog I've seen in my life. He got super excited when he spotted a bunch of 4 legged long limbed buddies who he thought were one of his kind...
... or so he thought. (You couldn't blame him, he really could have passed for a maneless, bigger and stronger Shetland Pony.)
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