Joanne McNally

The Irish Times Magazine - - ON THE MOVE -

Stand- up co­me­dian, writer, ac­tor

I sprint, but I don’t ac­tu­ally go any­where. It’s in­ter­val train­ing, I turn the tread­mill on high and leg it as fast as I can for 60 sec­onds and then hop off for 60 sec­onds, back on for 60, off for 60. I do this for 20 min­utes. A trainer told me it turns your body into a fat- burn­ing in­cin­er­a­tor for the en­tire day. It will just cre­mate what­ever you put into it, like a pig­gish steam en­gine.

Nat­u­rally, I will do my sprints on a Mon­day and as­sume that this means my body will con­tinue to burn up fat at this su­per­sonic speed for the rest of my life. I have tried to do it out­doors but all the stop­ping and start­ing looks strange. I look like I’ve just heard a fam­ily mem­ber is gravely ill, but I keep chang­ing my mind about how much I care.

The fat burn­ing is one perk. I also love to sweat. The first few beads are the best. My en­ergy lev­els sky rocket. Sud­denly I’m to­tally pre­pared if the tread­mill breaks loose from its floor fix­tures and we head off out the door. I’m a ma­chine. I can’t stop, I won’t stop, I’m un­stop­pable.

Un­til of course my 60- sec­ond in­ter­val is over and then I stop im­me­di­ately be­cause I’m not will­ing to do a minute more than what I agreed with my­self ear­lier.

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