... or is that 28 days! Eek it is! In 4 weeks we'll on a plane. OMGOMGOMG.
Stop panicking Carol.
Lost a day somewhere, yesterday.
cycle: 20 km flattish
weights: 45 mins.
cardio: 27 mins.
Ever noticed how, on a bicycle, the road is never flat. It's either slightly up or slightly down. No matter how far I cycle, the last 4 km as I turn up the Madha road, is the hardest. Harder than any hill. It's only slightly up, perhaps it gains 50 metres over 4 km (difficult to measure with my dicky altimeter, which gives me a different height every time I reach my house. I have considered the possibility that the sea level is moving on a daily basis.). Anyway the last 4 km, when I tired and it's got hot (always) I have to divide into 6 portions. Petrol pump to Jarradiyah no.1, to ladies park no.2, to wadi crossing no.3, to T-junction no.4, to little roundabout no.5 (love this one I'm so close to home); bottom of my road no.6. Then it's easy an ride to my front gate. What am I doing, it's only 4 km for godsake!
Milos told me Nato bom-Bd his country for 78 days. 90% was the Americans, because the Breetish have no money. But the Breetish signed all the papers to make it happen.
"Here we have one exercise, make strong the chest muscles." Oh thanks Milos, that's just what I need, I said. He's not one for irony, though. I detected a momentary flicker of a smile. Strong chest muscles I certainly have though. After some floor exercise or other I was flexing my muscles in the opposite direction to gain some respite (as one does) and Milos fell around laughing. "Wha-at?" I said. "Go look in the mirror when you do that." I thought about it. Er, perhaps later in the privacy of my own home. So this morning I remembered and flexed in front of the mirror. Oh My Gawd. The Incredible Hulk. Chest muscles popped up and my neck and shoulders grew to an alarming height. All I needed was to turn green. Wassa he doin to my body!!!!!!!
It's all good of course. I need all these muscles to stay on my bike for long periods of time without dropping off the bike with numbness. He's spot on. I proudly showed him my newly acquired biceps muscle (well I think it's impressive if no one else does). I flexed it just as one of the young Emirati lads that frequent the gym was walking past and he keeled over with laughter. I looked around and they were all grinning ear to ear. They think I"m mad. They're not far off. We're a mixed bunch in the evening gym. The young scrawny Emiratis all trying to gain muscle, a few flabby whities (Nato), mostly male, looking a bit miserable, couple of middle-aged Arab businessmen trying to conquer their stomachs; one or two young, disgustingly fit and gorgeous Arab girls and one Indian lady who's so hugely pregnant I had to ask Milos if he had experience of delivering babies. The way she attacks the machines, she'll be giving birth to a professional wrestler. Or perhaps a rugby ball. We'll all have to stand around her and try to catch it as it rockets across the gym.
Could not get out of bed for 4 am again this morning, so I knocked 10 km off my required 40 km for the day at 6 a.m. instead. I'll go out again at 5 pm and do the rest. Big day tomorrow. Another 60 km ride. I MUST try and get more sleep. I did the last one on only an hour and a half's sleep. Will run bath, drink camomile tea, er dunno what else. Will NOT go boozing with Dee, Martina and Jane, who are having a bit of a girlie piss-up tonight. Invented the perfect low-cal drink though. One shot of whiskey in a pint of soda water. Hey, rehydration plus a shot of anaesthetic and only 80 calories (ish). Genius.
Stop panicking Carol.
Lost a day somewhere, yesterday.
cycle: 20 km flattish
weights: 45 mins.
cardio: 27 mins.
Ever noticed how, on a bicycle, the road is never flat. It's either slightly up or slightly down. No matter how far I cycle, the last 4 km as I turn up the Madha road, is the hardest. Harder than any hill. It's only slightly up, perhaps it gains 50 metres over 4 km (difficult to measure with my dicky altimeter, which gives me a different height every time I reach my house. I have considered the possibility that the sea level is moving on a daily basis.). Anyway the last 4 km, when I tired and it's got hot (always) I have to divide into 6 portions. Petrol pump to Jarradiyah no.1, to ladies park no.2, to wadi crossing no.3, to T-junction no.4, to little roundabout no.5 (love this one I'm so close to home); bottom of my road no.6. Then it's easy an ride to my front gate. What am I doing, it's only 4 km for godsake!
Milos told me Nato bom-Bd his country for 78 days. 90% was the Americans, because the Breetish have no money. But the Breetish signed all the papers to make it happen.
"Here we have one exercise, make strong the chest muscles." Oh thanks Milos, that's just what I need, I said. He's not one for irony, though. I detected a momentary flicker of a smile. Strong chest muscles I certainly have though. After some floor exercise or other I was flexing my muscles in the opposite direction to gain some respite (as one does) and Milos fell around laughing. "Wha-at?" I said. "Go look in the mirror when you do that." I thought about it. Er, perhaps later in the privacy of my own home. So this morning I remembered and flexed in front of the mirror. Oh My Gawd. The Incredible Hulk. Chest muscles popped up and my neck and shoulders grew to an alarming height. All I needed was to turn green. Wassa he doin to my body!!!!!!!
It's all good of course. I need all these muscles to stay on my bike for long periods of time without dropping off the bike with numbness. He's spot on. I proudly showed him my newly acquired biceps muscle (well I think it's impressive if no one else does). I flexed it just as one of the young Emirati lads that frequent the gym was walking past and he keeled over with laughter. I looked around and they were all grinning ear to ear. They think I"m mad. They're not far off. We're a mixed bunch in the evening gym. The young scrawny Emiratis all trying to gain muscle, a few flabby whities (Nato), mostly male, looking a bit miserable, couple of middle-aged Arab businessmen trying to conquer their stomachs; one or two young, disgustingly fit and gorgeous Arab girls and one Indian lady who's so hugely pregnant I had to ask Milos if he had experience of delivering babies. The way she attacks the machines, she'll be giving birth to a professional wrestler. Or perhaps a rugby ball. We'll all have to stand around her and try to catch it as it rockets across the gym.
Could not get out of bed for 4 am again this morning, so I knocked 10 km off my required 40 km for the day at 6 a.m. instead. I'll go out again at 5 pm and do the rest. Big day tomorrow. Another 60 km ride. I MUST try and get more sleep. I did the last one on only an hour and a half's sleep. Will run bath, drink camomile tea, er dunno what else. Will NOT go boozing with Dee, Martina and Jane, who are having a bit of a girlie piss-up tonight. Invented the perfect low-cal drink though. One shot of whiskey in a pint of soda water. Hey, rehydration plus a shot of anaesthetic and only 80 calories (ish). Genius.
