How to get back into exercise. A guide for old molls.

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Don’t you just loathe the way that people share their exercise habit on social media, and wear it some sort of smug badge of honour?

If you are one of those people, please stop reading right now.

This morning we completed the first Huffy Puffy session of the year. For those who are new to WoogsWorld, Huffy Puffy began a few years ago with myself, Mrs. Goodman and Mrs. Jenkins who collectively had the fitness level of a smear of dog shit. But we have persisted because Mrs. Goodman lost an unbelievable amount of weight and my brain fog began to fit and Mrs. Jenkins swear vocabulary began to grow which gave me new words to learn about.

Anyway, the past six weeks we have not been huffing or puffing. More like larding and chugging so when the Huffy Puffy Trainer to the Reluctant turned up today and asked us to get on the scales, we looked at her with horror!

“Oh fuck it,” I said before telling the group that I was going to OWN that case of champagne I drank over Christmas/New Years and got on the scale. I was pleasantly surprised to see my weight gain was not in double digits. After the weigh in, HPTTTR told us that we were going to have a gentle session, which saw us lying on yoga mats, spinning like rotisserie chickens, including marinating albiet in our own filth. ┬áThen we did some sort of activity which involved lying on our stomachs and lifting our arms and legs and holding it for a bit. I complained that my whole body was resting on my mons pubis, and that it was not a nice feeling.

We were up and down and up and down from those mats so much, that I started to think about inventing a personal inclinator. The state of hips and knees were discussed.

We span again and did something called DEAD BUGS which left the atmosphere littered with profanities. I got cramps in my toes.

You know we pay to do this, right?

Did all this shit and then HPTTTR called time on the whole session, patted us on the head and told us we shall see her again on Thursday.

Each time I see a celebrity doing a backbend on a beach in a bikini with the hashtag #fitso (wank speak for fit inspiration) I want karate chop them in the neck. I mean, Jane Fonda had it all over you, you wellness warriors! Did it without a nutri bullet too…

The best part of Huffy Puffy is complaining about it. And coffee and tea and catching up with mates. Oh, and not feeling like I am going to murder someone.

Huffy Puffy or Bendy Backy?

Where do you fit in?