The gym

I have just been to the gym. Now that I am a woman of leisure I feel that it is my duty to look good 24-7 (my friends will all be snorting with derision right now). I also need to burn off all the Caramel Machiatto's I have been drinking. I have a few issues with the gym. Actually I have a lot of issues with the gym.

Apparently, exercise lets off lovely happy endorphins in your head and you feel alive and great. This has not happened to me. Ever. Instead I feel hot, sweaty and out of breath. My face goes as red as a tomato and I feel like steam is coming out of my ears. As I push myself to the limit on the treadmill (currently I can run for about 5 minutes before turning into a red sweaty mess) all I feel is failure. I feel like no matter how hard I run or how fast I row, I will never, ever get rid of the lovely roll of fat which hangs over the top of my jeans. One of my friends calls this her muffin top and I think this is an apt title. Number one it does actually look like the top of a muffin and number two it was more than likely created by eating one too many of the sugary delights. I work out three times a week and in the eight or so years that I have been going to the gym my muffin top has not budged. Perhaps its my genes.

And why is it I always manage to place myself next to some lithe young thing who could give Paula Radcliffe a run for her money (literally). Whilst I pant and perspire she runs like a gazelle in her Stella MaCartney for Adidas lycra. AND she doesn't have a muffin top. Its just not fair.

The gym that I attend has lovely views of the Hudson River. Squirrels and birds frolic outside the window and people walk their dogs along the esplanade. Well, that's what I can see if I peer over the bloody great big TV screen that is perched on the end of my teadmill. Yes, why look out the window and admire the view when you can stare at crap American TV? Every singe machine has a TV attached to it (except the rower and no-one uses that except me).

I sometimes go for a run outside but I'm not very good. First of all I run way too fast and am out of breath within minutes and second of all I am very very clumsy and have been known to trip. In fact, I have sustained lots of injuries whilst trying to keep fit. Once I missed the seat on the rower - I can't begin to tell you how much that hurt....

My ambition is to run a Marathon. My friends say I'd be better off eating one (for those of you over the age of 30 a Marathon was the original - and best - name for a Snickers bar. But seriously I would love to run 26.2 miles. The only thing that puts me off is the training (yes, in order to complete the aforementioned distance you need to put in a few hours beforehand). The very thought of running through the rain and snow sends me to the nearest Doughnut shop. Also, I don't fancy having to apply vasaline and plasters to my nipples. Sorry. So for now, I think I'll watch it on TV, ponder over whether I should apply and then decide nah, I'd rather sit in and watch Lost.

And whilst I'm on the subject of Lost the new season (we call it a series, they call it a season - tomatoes and tomatoes and all that...) has started. Its very good and all you Brits out there should be very jealous of the fact that I get to see it first. Ner ner nernerner.