The carrot cake is now all but a distant memory as I’ve become a new person.

Yes, no more chomping cakes in bed and when I get home all those Easter eggs that have been given to my son are going to be given away.

That is apart from the Lindt one as that would be too much torture in one go.

Since I’d slipped into a routine of only going to the gym once a week, I knew I wasn’t getting anywhere.

I was using all sorts of excuses not to go, it was too cold, I was tired, I’d exercise at home instead (I did five stomach curls) and one night I even deemed it too windy to go!

Husband would shake his head sadly at me as he’d head off into the dark night for a 30 mile cycle (true).

I’d snuggle next to the fire defiantly thinking there was always the next week.

When I did make my weekly pilgrimage I’d be met with encouragement from the lovely Sean at The Quay, and sarcasm from Ed, who’d say “Gosh, are you feeling all right?” or “I haven’t seen you for weeks!”

It did get boring after a while so for the past couple of weeks I’ve been making sure I’ve been going THREE times a week.

I never look forward to it but soon as I’m there I actually quite enjoy it and what makes it a lot easier is I can watch TV whilst I’m pounding away.

Most of the torture machines now have TV screens installed so I’ve never watched so much Richard & Judy and The Simpsons in my life.

Somewhat strangely I even enjoy the sweating and even Ed couldn’t believe his eyes when I walked in over Easter.

Perhaps the shocked silence was due to his hangover (he had somewhat bleary eyes) but it pleased me no end.

The results are yet to be seen although I’m sure I saw a shoulder muscle the other day.

Anyway, the point is I’m on my way....

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