Gym Bunnies

So you will never guess who I was training with this afternoon..















...only the bleedin' Scottish Rugby Team!!! Woo-hoo!



There are a few perks to having the Scottish Institute of Sport on the same campus as my university. And sharing a gym with the entire national rugby squad is one of them. So I had to try my best to be cool, and not to be sycophantic ..or stare. At least not stare too much anyway. And be thankful that I had made the bizarrely illogical decision to have a wash before I went to the gym today, and so looked just about human. Trying to act as normal as I could, in an overtly I'm-really-not-even-looking-over-at-you-let-alone-watching-you kinda way, I got on with my workout. Now I won't give too many training secrets away about how in-shape they looked, or what training techniques they were using - just incase any Welsh nationals get a hold of my blog and use it's secrets against them. But I can tell you that Chris Paterson (only the team captain dont you know!) kindly got out of my way so that I could use the lifting cage that he had been using. And thankfully, Sean Lamont pointed out my presence to one of his team mates just in time to save my head from being taken off my shoulders as a disturbingly large medecine ball whistled past my ear.

Most people who know me know that I am very much in to all things health and fitness in a major way. So it won't surprise you in the slightest that I couldn't resist the opportunity to show off just a little. So I climbed on top of a Swiss ball and stood there balancing before doing a few squats to impress them. You are probably no doubt sitting there wondering what on earth that means, and why on earth I thought that that would impress them. Perhaps if I were to explain that a Swiss ball is a large inflatable ball, you will understand a little more.... A. Very. Wobbly. Large. Inflatable. Ball. Go and try to balance on top of one if you're still unsure. And then try and squat on top of one. And then see if you're not impressed.

So we are off to watch the game as Wales take on Scotland at Murrayfield this Sunday. My Pa and I. I am really looking forward to it actually. Infact I have been looking forward to it since Christmas (other unbastardised Pagan festivals are available), because that's when I bought my Pa a ticket as a gift. Naturally, I had to buy myself one too, so he had someone to go with - its sacrifices like that that show the kind of girl I really am. We are planning a whole weekend around the event. They (Dad and Jan - my stepmum) haven't been up to visit us in Scotland since we moved here, and so it was too good an opportunity to miss. After lots of local mooching to show them the sights of the lovely Bridge of Allan, Jan and Sarah are off in search of sights and culture in Edinburgh, as Pa and I have a daddy-daughter bonding day over a few beers and a few black-eyed, mud encrusted, bloodied, hairy, sweaty, men. Nice! I have even learnt the words to Flower of Scotland in preparation for the Scottish national anthem. But I cannot hold out much faith that I will be able to make it through the song without getting all choked up and crying. After all, I'm just a big violent-full-contact-sport-loving softy really.