Me: Good to be here.
Me: Good to be looking after myself.
Also me: I want a big drink.
Me: Gonna warm up first…
Also me: I have no idea how to work this…
Me: Look at me, I’m jogging!
Also me: I’m going to be sick.
Me: Wow, I managed five minutes – I’m fitter than I thought.
Also me: Someone call an ambulance.
Me: OK, what next?
Also me: I need to lie down.
Me: The cross-trainer…
Also me: No idea which one that is.
Me: To work on my…glutes.
Also me: The only muscle group I can remember the name of.
Me: The setting the trainer suggested is much too high.
Also me: Get me off. GET ME OFF.
Me: I need something to work towards, surely?
Also me: Like my own death.
Me: Good to get a sweat going
Also me: Oh God, am I ugly-sweating?
Me: Feels like something is happening.
Also me: Is my face angry-red?
Me: Buns of steel, buns of steel.
Also me: I can’t even see my own arse – why am I doing this??
Me: Going to do the pulling thing with weights now.
Also me: I want a cheeseburger and a nap.
Also me: To push away all those 22-year olds who want to go out with me.
Me: OK, this is…
Also me: Boring/horrendous/pointless/evil
Me: …quite hard work.
Also me: Now can’t feel my hands.
Me: Right. Abs.
Also me: (laughing) I mean, what abs?
Also me: Core strength is Spanx.
Me: Feeling strong.
Also me: These are the never-before-seen-deep-sea-fish in Blue Planet II of muscles.
Me: Keep going…
Also me: These muscles don’t have names.
Me: Tired, but good.
Also me: No pulse. Dead.
Also me: Stretcher.