Having met all my (medical) goals now it is time to face the February phase of things.
It is called *Diet and Exercise*

The actual goal is to incorporate 5 extra hours of exercise into my week while practising moderation in my eating habits. Oh it seems so unnatural.

Reading Neil Gaiman's post of this morning I had a good laugh.
He had a little footnote on his own diet.

* It's working just fine, thank you. I call it The Don't Eat So Bloody Much and Would It Kill You To Take A Walk Now And Again Diet*

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Not that it is important of course, but I have had to buy new (bloody) clothes to accommodate my goddessnesss. Stretchy pants. Baggy tops. Dark colours to camouflage the uhm, divine.

In the pool, pretending to enjoy whatever it is I do there, I try to mirror the movements of the instructor but it is hopeless. As I go to the showers to wash off my ineptitude, I get a tap on my shoulder. It is the instructor.

"I have to ask. Are you a former weight lifter?"
I turn to look at her in amazement. Surely the roundness has confuzzled her focus.
Another voice behind her:
"You have the most developed shoulder muscles I ever saw in a woman."
They are insane. That is all past history of the long long ago and the only over developed muscle of mine is my sphincter.

I come home and look through 2 mirrors.
Nope, looks pretty normal to me.
I lift my arms and stretch.
Ooooo. They are still there. Amazing. But it just ends after that, down down to a sea of soft white skin.

My haircut looks great by all reports. (She says cleverly changing the focus of the post)

Perhaps my destiny is to live on, redeeming the place of soft round womanhood to a cultural norm instead of a fate worse than death.