Taking a break from swimming today. Got in 15 laps yesterday, which makes 57 for the week (40 laps make up a kilometre). The barman warned me yesterday that the pool would be crowded this lunchtime, so I took a view.
Feet no longer purple! Amazing! There was no sign of improvement, and then - suddenly - there they were, as pink as a pair of pigs. The soles have improved markedly too. The worst thing now is what feels like a nasty bruise just behind the ball of the right foot. Still don't fancy taking them for a walk, mind, but the idea, the concept, of walking is no longer beyond the bounds of belief.
Did I mention I'd got the Wi machine up and running? Well, according to its weighing function, I think I've dropped three-quarters of a kilo so far. That's the good news. The bad news is that after a few physical tests it told me, "Congratulations, your Wi-fit age is exactly the same as your chronological age". That, of course, is Wi code for, "Could that be the eternal footman over your shoulder, holding your coat - and snickering."* Be sure that I shall report improvements (if any).
Tried a few Wi sports without being able to get on the leader boards (where the top ten positions for all sports are filled by my 11 and 9 year old granddaughters). I wouldn't mind but even the 9 year old hits the virtual golf ball miles further than me (and straight). Mind you, she's got a beautiful swing - they both have. One thing's certain: they didn't bloody get it from me.
Pip pip!
*Adapted from Eliot, of course. Do you know, the bugger was only 28 when he wrote that (The Love Story of J AlfredPrufrock, I mean).
Feet no longer purple! Amazing! There was no sign of improvement, and then - suddenly - there they were, as pink as a pair of pigs. The soles have improved markedly too. The worst thing now is what feels like a nasty bruise just behind the ball of the right foot. Still don't fancy taking them for a walk, mind, but the idea, the concept, of walking is no longer beyond the bounds of belief.
Did I mention I'd got the Wi machine up and running? Well, according to its weighing function, I think I've dropped three-quarters of a kilo so far. That's the good news. The bad news is that after a few physical tests it told me, "Congratulations, your Wi-fit age is exactly the same as your chronological age". That, of course, is Wi code for, "Could that be the eternal footman over your shoulder, holding your coat - and snickering."* Be sure that I shall report improvements (if any).
Tried a few Wi sports without being able to get on the leader boards (where the top ten positions for all sports are filled by my 11 and 9 year old granddaughters). I wouldn't mind but even the 9 year old hits the virtual golf ball miles further than me (and straight). Mind you, she's got a beautiful swing - they both have. One thing's certain: they didn't bloody get it from me.
Pip pip!
*Adapted from Eliot, of course. Do you know, the bugger was only 28 when he wrote that (The Love Story of J AlfredPrufrock, I mean).