It’s been an interesting week in the world of body politics. I’d been idly pondering a post like this for a while. Partly based on this article on Girls Gone Strong about the pressure to be “picture perfect” as a Personal Trainer. It made me think about my own feelings about becoming a Personal Trainer
Yes, I know that Travel Man already use the 48 hours in…. title. But seeing as I pretty much spent EXACTLY 48 hours in Venice, from arrival to getting on the bus to head home I figured it was as good a title as any for a quick run down of my birthday trip earlier
Last year I headed back to the place I grew up, the Isle of Sheppey, to complete the Island Run 10k for the first time. As well as the momentous and historic occasion of being the first time I had run it, it was also the first time the race had been a 10k rather
I would say that one of my hobbies right now is maintaining as close to my ideal standard of life as possible while spending as little money as possible. With 2 of us self-employed in the house, income can sometimes be, shall we say, a little unreliable. We do ok, but considering my “ideal standard
Ah, the gym. I love how you make me feel stronger and mean I can take boxes off delivery drivers with one hand after they’ve warned me how heavy it is. I don’t always love those days when I went a bit hard after a bit of a break, or just really pushed it and
I really love having a glass of wine in the evening. I like the ritual of opening a bottle with dinner and I like to chose a nice wine glass to drink it out of. It’s like a full stop on the end of the day. It’s also part of a nice relaxing bath ritual.
Well, hello there! I hope you’re all as confused as I am by the clock changing thing. This invariably leads to weeks of me going to bed too late and then being knackered, so that’ll be fun. After last weeks disturbing levels of excitement, fun and activity, this week has once again returned to boring
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Welcome to WordPress. This is your first post. Edit or delete it, then start writing!