We all scream (ex­cept Mama) for ice cream

The Riverine Herald - - NEWS - WITH IVY WISE

YOU know it’s time to get fit when you can’t catch your seven-year-old daugh­ter in a game of tiggy.

Or when your 10-year-old daugh­ter says ‘I’m not say­ing you need to but maybe we should go run­ning to­gether’. Hint taken. In all hon­esty, I re­ally do need to im­prove my phys­i­cal fit­ness. I mean my stamina is al­most non-ex­is­tent.

By the time we run (umm fast walk— who am I kid­ding?) to the park to kick the footy around, I am al­ready out of breath.

And you can for­get tiggy. Be­cause I am al­ways it as I can’t catch the lit­tle bug­gers.

So I have started fast-walk­ing/ jog­ging a cou­ple of nights a week.

And thanks to the mo­ti­va­tional mus­ings lyrics of Sia, I can now run a few hun­dred me­tres with­out gasp­ing for air and col­laps­ing like a beached whale.

I have also started do­ing yoga, in an ef­fort to get that hot lithe yoga body.

The fact it is sup­posed to calm the mind too is an added bonus.

My first ses­sion, I walked in think­ing ‘‘I’ve got this. I used to be a dancer’’.

It turns out ‘used to’ were the op­er­a­tive words.

Al­though I have al­most mas­tered the down­ward fac­ing dog, tree and plank poses, you can for­get about the crow and plow poses.

There’s no way my wrists are go­ing to hold my weight with­out snap­ping and the last time my legs were that high above my head, well I wasn’t do­ing yoga.

And who­ever said yoga was re­lax­ing wasn’t do­ing it right.

Try­ing to twist your body into seem­ingly im­pos­si­ble po­si­tions is not ex­actly my idea of rest­ful.

It’s a work­out. And it’s no won­der that yoga en­thu­si­asts all look smok­ing hot.

And hope­fully by next year some­time I will too.

This is all well and good un­til my boss walks in with a dozen McFlur­rys. Why hath thou for­saken me? But be­fore I hoovered all that pig fat sweet­ness, I de­cided to Google the nu­tri­tional in­for­ma­tion.

At 640 calo­ries, I would need to walk for 167 min­utes to burn it off.

Well, you can have your $2 McFlurry Macca’s.

For the first time in my life, I said no to ice-cream.

OK, maybe af­ter I had two spoons full, licked up the bit on my hands, ran my fin­ger around the rim where some threat­ened to over­spill and I’m not sure how many M&Ms were caught up in that process. But I was strong — and even­tu­ally stopped.

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