So, remember my last post before Easter (here) where I said we'd be all in the same page after the break? This is in fact the I'm-so-fat-I-want-to-die page, right behind the God-damn-all-those-Easter-eggs one. That's right, it's that time of the year when you're feeling guilty for having had all those massive chocolate eggs your grandmother insisted on giving you. And you're now also feeling guilty thinking you'll never fit in that bikini. Or those tiny shorts. Well, if you're one of those skinny b*tches that doesn't have to lift a pencil to be super fit then goodbye you, please leave in silence.
If you're not, then can you please join me in my close-my-mouth season, adding some extra fun called EXERCISE?! I'm sure we'll all do better if we stick together really. I made the Beef my personal trainer and this was my first session.
Jumper: Oxford Uni @ Oxford Street | Tracksuit Bottoms: Topshop | Trainers: Adidas
It went well, apart from the fact I was shouting for mercy after 8 minutes of running that seemed like 8 hours. 'I can't breatheeeee!' was my favourite saying for half an hour. Anyway, it's started. Even though NY is coming next week (eeek!) and that's going to be a challenge but oh well, we'll try. I'll let you know how it went. Do share your pain now, please!
P.S. My hair is not red or ginger, it was just a bad sunset light, no panic!
