So, the paralympics start on saturday.
That's right...the NEXT paralympics.
The (n+1) of the end of my paralympic career.
And then it dawned on me.....I think (n) was the last time that I actually did some exercise. Some paralympic-huffy-puffy
It was easy to fool myself that I was doing a little surreptitious-huffy-puffy, but it was all an illusion people. I coached a basketball team of big burly men. I yelled, they worked. Gosh we were tired at the end of practise.
So, about a month ago, Melsy and I began walking to work together (I mean twice a week. I don't mean that it's taken us a month to get to work!). It sounded like a good idea.
However, Melsy has taken to getting herself a coffee on the way to my house. She offered me one too, but we both know that I need both hands for that propulsion thing.
So while she's doing some bevvy-huffy-puffy, I'm very clearly doing the sulky-huffy-puffy.
And then I thought about a personal trainer. Yep, that's a good idea.
Off I went to visit Matt.
So, I was doing a little bit of boxing, with resistance bands
And, I was sitting in my chair, with brakes on, next to a machine, to which the resistance bands were tied. I was hitting Matt's hands, and then he told me to do some cross-over punches.
As I punched across my body, the resistance bands flicked and hurt both my ears.
At that point, Matt ran over to his desk, and picked up a boxing helmet.
So, here's a picture for your brain:
- a tiny wheelchair chick
- tied to a machine
- holding rubber strips
(well, those sentences should get me some unusual people searching for stuff on google! How You doin'?)
- throwing ineffective punches
- whilst wearing a boxing helmet.