La Traviata and Me

Posted by Mari Jones on April 30, 2008 11:25 AM

You may not have heard from me for some time as I've been busily trying to get some results from the gym.

Although my stamina seems to be improving (I can now walk up a hill without having a near collapse at the top) I haven't lost any weight.

I keep on telling myself muscle weighs more than fat, but as kind hubby pointed out it takes a year to put on a pound of muscle (surely that can't be right?!)

I think my problem is it's hard to get three sessions in at the gym a week. Last night I read an article that Gwyneth Paltrow's trainer reckons you need to do an hour's exercise six times a week!

Who the hell has got time do to that? That would mean I'd come home to a very fed up husband and a child who'd probably forget who I was.

It's fine if you have a nanny and don't have a job but I'd say virtually impossible for the rest of us.

She added that if one of her clients went to the gym just three times a week she'd regard them as slackers!

Three words love "Get a Life". She's also Madonna's trainer so that would explain the bionic woman body.

I've still never met a man who finds her sexy, I think if she looked a little softer they probably would.

Anyway, I was born in the wrong era. Last week I played a courtesan in La Traviata at Venue Cymru.

The dress was fab as the corset made me look as if I had a little waist, it showed off my shoulders and hid my legs.

Women must have looked incredible in the 19th century.

Right I’m off to build a time machine.....

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Falling Over Cloudberries in Stockholm

Posted by Mari Jones on April 9, 2008 11:28 AM

My boys and I have just spent three days munching our way around Stockholm's finest cake shops.

Stockholm is my kind of town, I expected to see LA type perfection but instead saw a lot of healthy looking Swedes lustily digging into cloudberry muffins, carrot cake and the hugest cups of hot chocolate I've ever seen.

I was in heaven.

The healthy eating diet went out of the window and I've missed three trips to the gym arghhh.

But as it's an eye wateringly expensive city (we're talking over £20 for a couple of cups of coffee and cake), instead of taking taxis we walked everywhere.

It was great, although as my little one refused to get into his pram and spent the entire time pushing it with me steering it (Daddy wasn't allowed to touch it) we must have made quite a comical sight.

Especially during one instance when he got tired after a couple of miles and had the biggest tantrum he's ever had.

People stopped to gawp and one old man wearing a trilby was so fascinated by this screaming, furious bundle that he stopped, walked past us, stopped again, walked past us and just stared.

I nearly shouted some abuse but instead dived into a shop and left my husband to deal with it. (I know, I know it was terrible thing to do) Jack only calmed down when I carried him the rest of the way and he promptly fell asleep.

Apart from another episode at passport control where I pretended he wasn't my child (well he was loudly protesting about his life at the time) he was an angel, and helped give me a really good workout pushing that pram up those hills.

My legs are still stiff and it was much more enjoyable than going to the gym.

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