On the road again
So, I'm off tomorrow for a week in Gran Canaria. It may seem like I have a lot of holidays but... OK, I do have a lot of holidays, but I plan them carefully to get the most holiday for my money. For trips to Gran Canaria I only have to pay for the flights anyway as I'm visiting family, so it's not so bad, honest!
This time is kind of scary though. I'm meant to be learning to scuba dive. I don't know whether I've mentioned this before or just hinted at it. But the reason my parents live in Gran Canaria is that they run a diving school over there. My dad is an instructor, and my sister is an instructor. My mum doesn't dive, for health reasons. And I don't dive because I was scared of pouring my ample flesh into a wetsuit.
I claimed that I didn't like the sensation when I tried it in the pool, but I think everyone knew that was bollocks. My mother let as much slip when she was over earlier in the year with a comment along the lines of "you won't need to wear the biggest wetsuit now".
No matter how much you think you can disguise your precise size in nice clothes (for evidence, see the fact that the people at work think I'm a size 12 when I'm blatantly not), when it's a question of having to squeeze into a wetsuit provided by your parents, there's not much room for argument. I'd have had to admit that I was horribly obese, and that wasn't something I wanted to do.
It wasn't a fitness question. I've always been a strong swimmer, no matter what my size. It was a neoprene question. The thought of my arse in rubber wasn't overly appealing.
But I've been pencilled into the diary for a try dive on Monday. And the course starts on Tuesday if I like it. Part of me wants to try it, but part of me wants to hate it so that I don't feel bad about waiting so long purely because of my size. If I don't like it, it won't have made a difference. If I like it, that's three wasted years. I suspect that only makes sense in my head.
Another sign of my growing social acceptability is that my sister asked if I wanted to go out with her and her mates while I'm over there. Even though we get on well, I've never been out with her over there before. Sadly, the thing we were meant to be going to is the day after we come back, but maybe a drunken night in Playa is on the cards anyway. It's strange, I spend so many holidays in Gran Canaria and I've never yet done the going out drinking thing that it has a reputation for. But with lots of new confidence and lots of new skirts, who knows.
Anyway, I'll be back next weekend sometime, after a week off the treadmill (both metaphorically and literally), hopefully not too far off the wagon but refreshed ready for the last push before christmas party season.
I'll have a sangria or two for you all!
This time is kind of scary though. I'm meant to be learning to scuba dive. I don't know whether I've mentioned this before or just hinted at it. But the reason my parents live in Gran Canaria is that they run a diving school over there. My dad is an instructor, and my sister is an instructor. My mum doesn't dive, for health reasons. And I don't dive because I was scared of pouring my ample flesh into a wetsuit.
I claimed that I didn't like the sensation when I tried it in the pool, but I think everyone knew that was bollocks. My mother let as much slip when she was over earlier in the year with a comment along the lines of "you won't need to wear the biggest wetsuit now".
No matter how much you think you can disguise your precise size in nice clothes (for evidence, see the fact that the people at work think I'm a size 12 when I'm blatantly not), when it's a question of having to squeeze into a wetsuit provided by your parents, there's not much room for argument. I'd have had to admit that I was horribly obese, and that wasn't something I wanted to do.
It wasn't a fitness question. I've always been a strong swimmer, no matter what my size. It was a neoprene question. The thought of my arse in rubber wasn't overly appealing.
But I've been pencilled into the diary for a try dive on Monday. And the course starts on Tuesday if I like it. Part of me wants to try it, but part of me wants to hate it so that I don't feel bad about waiting so long purely because of my size. If I don't like it, it won't have made a difference. If I like it, that's three wasted years. I suspect that only makes sense in my head.
Another sign of my growing social acceptability is that my sister asked if I wanted to go out with her and her mates while I'm over there. Even though we get on well, I've never been out with her over there before. Sadly, the thing we were meant to be going to is the day after we come back, but maybe a drunken night in Playa is on the cards anyway. It's strange, I spend so many holidays in Gran Canaria and I've never yet done the going out drinking thing that it has a reputation for. But with lots of new confidence and lots of new skirts, who knows.
Anyway, I'll be back next weekend sometime, after a week off the treadmill (both metaphorically and literally), hopefully not too far off the wagon but refreshed ready for the last push before christmas party season.
I'll have a sangria or two for you all!
posted by YP at 8:30 PM
4 Comments:
YP, I hope you have fun in Gran Canaria! I had a question for you, do you do any type of weight training? Have fun!
Yes, I do weights a couple of times a week at the gym. My exercise usually works out at roughly 2/3 cardio, 1/3 weights.
That's great. I was just wondering because I have never seen you mention it before :). Anyway, congratulations on meeting you goal! That's fantastic :)
I can totally understand the love it/hate it conundrum regarding scuba diving. I have always wanted to have a go at fencing, and I feel just the same about it. I tell myself I want to have more upper-body strength before I have a go, so I don't make a fool of myself... but really it's about not looking horrible in the protective clothing.
Well, I hope you love it, but there's no shame if you don't. Have a great time anyway.
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