Aquafit

Holy moly. Went to aquafit in Dundee yesterday (after narrowly avoiding going to aqua-aerobics in St Andrews, where old, crocked ladies steadily return to health) and quite enjoyed it. There were a few moments where the ol' heart rate got going, and it certainly worked out my abs and arm muscles, but I didn't feel it was particularly challenging at the time. Good enough to act as a 30 minute workout in the gym, maybe, but not good enough to replace any of the activity I'm doing at the moment.

Then I got out.

Immediately, I felt as though gravity had suddenly increased by a factor of ten, and my boobs were weighing me down to a knee-buckling extent. I still didn't feel tired, though, or as though I'd worked out particularly hard, and gravity righted itself swiftly, so I thought no more about it. Then Fisher and I went to the DCA for supper, and before I knew it, I was wolfing down an enormous plate of salmon and trying not to fall asleep in her chips. (Notice how I make a point of saying 'her' chips. I didn't order chips, and am therefore a superior being). I have a feeling aquafit is a deceptive work-out. Either that or I'm a greedy biffa.

Bit of both, probably.