I HAVE broken one of my own rules. In fact if I cast my mind back far enough (something I try not to do too often, for obvious reasons), I'm pretty sure I've broken one of my own New Year's fitness resolutions. To be honest it's a miracle they've lasted until October but still, it's not great.
The thing is, I have started working out with the TV on. And not just the TV, either. The radio, DVDs, books on tape, whale sounds, anything in fact, rather than work out to the strains of the upbeat poppy music that used to get me moving, lifting weights and sweating buckets in the early days of my fitness regime.
I know exactly why, too. I have got myself into a musical workout rut (good grief, who knew such a thing even existed?) and am finding it increasingly difficult to haul myself out of it.
It's been ages now since I've attempted to make up a new musical play list, or even download any new songs that I thought might be suitable for exercising to. The thing is, I know, from the very first beat of Britney's Toxic or the Chemical Brothers' Block Rockin' Beats or even Gwen Stefani's What You Waiting For, exactly how many sit ups/leg lifts/arm reps I have to do before the end of the song. I know, as soon as I switch on my iPod and load up the playlist, just how many minutes I'm going to be sweating it out.
The result is I grow bored within five minutes, the music goes off, I jog through to the lounge and the TV goes on. When I first started working out, the music I exercised to was one of the highlights of the whole experience, and something I actively enjoyed selecting. Now it seems a shortcut to misery.
And if I ever hear one of the songs I regularly work out to in a club, I'm first to the bar - in case I start doing star jumps in the middle of the dancefloor. When it comes to being in a rut, my PT seems to suffer a similar affliction, as she has been using the same playlist (inspired, I'm ashamed to say, by me, after I told her of the joys of exercising to bad 1990s dance music) for several months. In fact she knows it so well she mouths silently, and probably unconsciously, along to quite a few of the songs.
So, for the moment at least, I am exercising in front of The West Wing DVDs, or while listening to Alan Bennett read short stories. Both seem to send the cat off to sleep. As for me, I'm just about managing to stay awake.
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