Such a drag

Allegedly, a few months ago I agreed with Ian that I'd go to watch some drag racing over the bank holiday weekend. I have little recollection of this conversation but last week I went through with the promise.

I can't really tell you an awful lot about the racing itself, mainly because I spent the 7 hours (no, really) that we sat in the grandstands fearing that I was sure to plummet to my death. Have you seen Final Destination? I was starting to feel like the film with the racing incident was actually a documentary. The grandstand where we sat gave a great view of the quarter mile of track we needed to see, however they were made of the most rickety wood I have ever seen, rotten and flexing as you climbed the stairs. I sat rigid, my arse bones digging into the wooden seat, trying desperately not to move too much because it felt like the whole thing moved whenever I did. This Final Destination fear wasn't helped by Ian's friend telling us about a man who once dropped dead in the crowd of spectators after a piece of shrapnel from a car flew through the air and landed in his chest.

Observations

- I had to wear my gig ear plugs because the noise of the cars was so fucking loud 

- A lot of the junior racers and one or two of the grown up racers were girls/women. I was pleasantly surprised about this, it was really nice to see

- That someone managed to get a car I would love (a '90s Peugeot 205) up to 130something mph in the space of a quarter of a mile 

- During the first race, just as I was texting my friend suggesting that we could have a go at it in our cars, one of the cars veered across the track and smashed into a barrier, I swiftly changed my mind.

Despite what I said up there, on the way home I suggested to Ian that he should get his Midget back on the road and we could become a racing team. It must've been a moment of madness on my part, I even said "there's enough room for a much bigger engine in there, isn't there?" I don't know what I was thinking, I really don't. I also suggested I should do the driving because I'm lighter and so we'd have a weight advantage. I have rethought this lunatic idea now, I need the kitchen finished before one of us kills ourselves racing down a drag track. It's a dangerous business whether you're spectating or participating. 

Where we sat, see what I mean? I actually couldn't sit on the kitchen chair the next day without a cushion for support, the bones in my arse were just too sore. Yes yes, I know I shouldn't complain about that but I was so sore, I really was.

In which I go round and round in circles

I hate exercise, I really do. If you love it then that's fine and to be honest I'm a little bit jealous of you. If you know me in real life, or even if you follow me on Twitter those two sentences will be a little confusing because I am always on about going to the gym. I go every night, Monday to Friday, unless I have something else planned for straight after work. Every day as I approach the gym I secretly will for something to have happened to the building that would mean it was closed for the day. You see, I can't justify to myself skipping a visit there, not going is being lazy but if the decision is taken out of my hands I feel ok about it. I think I've had this routine for about 7 years now, I was super fat when I joined the gym, I was pretty lazy about it then too but I went anyway because a friend I worked with was going to and it really helped my motivation. She stopped going but I didn't, I carried on and got the exercise bug once it started working and the weight started coming off. There was something I hadn't banked on, and I know this is really really stupid, but once you've got really fat and you start to lose weight you have to change your entire lifestyle, there's no going back to being a couch potato unless you want to undo all that hard work. They don't show you that on the TV shows do they? They just show someone drop a few lbs, go on Gok Wan's programme, buy some sucky-in-knickers and that's that. Nobody tells you before you get fat that if you want to not be fat you're going to have to start exercising and you're bloody well going to have to keep it up. Don't get me wrong, I'm not totally thick, I just wish I'd realised this before. You see, my body seems to have got used to a high level of exercise and when it wanes I really notice a difference. And that is precisely what I'm fed up with, the prospect of a lifetime of having to force myself to run/cycle/cross train regularly just to keep up what I started. I wouldn't mind but I'm not even as thin as I once was but that was unsustainable. Now however, I'd like to drop a dress size but I just can't find that motivation in me any more, or maybe I don't want it enough? There's pretty much no point to this post whatsoever, it's just an outpouring from my brain, through my fingers and onto here. I'm going to stop now because I need to put some lycra on and get myself to the gym where I will complain almost non-stop about being there.