Bones...

No not the TV show, though one will admit to being rather fond of it... perfect sleep inducing programme that it is... just the right combination of voices and no scary music sound effects, but one digresses. This is actually about bones or rather how damn sore they are. The ribs are killing one at the moment and it took a while to work out what the hell was wrong. It would seem that without their little fat covering, they are simply rubbing on everything; bras, the bed, during sex, handbags and the lunch bag (well all that food needs a serious lunch box and another shoulder bag of its own). The silly thing is when one was younger you could count every one of them and they were never this sore... obviously they build up a tolerance to contact L

That reduction in fat has also had another rather unpleasant side effect. After the leg work the other day one was nearly crippled. Don't laugh... one actually had to use the corner of the shower and the hand basin to lever oneself off the toilet. Mutters this does not bode well for the future... but it might be something to consider if we ever move... is there room for a railing near the toilet... hmm. The legs just couldn't do the job unaided... and although one hadn't done the work out for a while, it shouldn't have been that bad. Hell it's never been that bad before in all the years of working out...

The reason?

Well one suspects that without the little spare tire in the way, the legs are doing a much deeper squat. And add twenty kilos of bar to that squat...

Sighs this is the sort of shit that they never warn you about L