I have been attempting to get fit. I have mentioned before, this is not out of some sense of high virtue, but rather in self-defense against my fae, who seems to see sleep as an option that frequently isn’t selected, and believes any illness or injury can be run off (you just need to run fast enough). To this end, I have joined a gym and bought a bike. The bike was an abject failure, the chain wouldn’t stay on and, whilst it looked cute, it didn’t manage any of the paths in my local area. So, sighing at my incompetence and despairing for my daughter, my parents bought me a second one, that was actually able to deal with the abuse I threw at it.
This turned out to be a life saver since, having joined the gym 4 months ago, I have managed to set foot in the place precisely 3 times. Once when I joined up, once for an induction with a rather unpleasant instructor who referred to me as ‘hon’ throughout the half hour we spent together (it was supposed to be an hour but instead of showing me anything she just waved in the direction of the weight section and muttered ‘there’s some weight machines over there’). Turned out she referred to me as ‘hon’ because she didn’t bother to remember my name, and wanted a shower more than to show me round. The last time I went, I tried to work out but found that I couldn’t find anything, on account of not really being inducted properly.
I have been cycling more often, though, and am now a fully paid-up member of the Strava cult. I know what a KOM and QOM are, and I chase PRs to the detriment of my safety. It also means that I can now tow my daughter on her bike to the lakeside cycle path, so she can practise cycling in a safe place without worrying about cars or noise. The downside is, the lake area has a play park, so she thinks I tow her there so she can play on the big slide for a bit. Then tow her home again. One of us has the wrong idea. At the moment it’s a toss up which one but I know who spends the most time on the slide…
Raising the Modern Fae 