Lousy Food Banished

Ooof, physical exercise. I’m clearly not the fittest person out there, but I don’t completely hate it either. My physio’s banned me from running — apparently my ankles are a bit of a wreck (too many sprains, not enough rehab).

As a kid, I hated exercise. Walking up hills? I’d rather roll back down them. I’d give up halfway and declare it was “too hard” like a dramatic little soap star. But somewhere along the way, I realised moving your body doesn’t have to feel like punishment — it can actually be kind of… fun? Weird, I know.

Back when I could still run, I loved social basketball — mostly because it didn’t feel like exercise. It felt like hanging out, laughing, and occasionally pretending I knew how to dribble.

These days, I’m a reformer Pilates convert. Pilates is torture — and I kinda like that torture. I weirdly enjoy getting pushed, like if I outdo my physio’s challenge I’ll win some kind of prize. The prize, of course, is them finally letting me go home.

Anyone else feel personally attacked by their physio — in the best way?