See these stairs?
If you never hear from me again it's because these stairs just killed me.
Inspired by some crazy ass Maori boys doing footy training on this hill at Burleigh Beach, I decided to do 5 sets of lunges up them.
Holding the baby.
After they left? Jelly legs collapsed on me.
I'm pretty sure I'm going to be in agony over the next few days when my muscles realise what I just did to them.
Stretching? Pfffffft. Stretching is for sissies.
So why the sudden urge to punish myself?
I've been following The Healthy Mummy plan to shed the baby blubber (baby/wine cheese - same diff) and trying to stay off the computer (fail).
Reward for the punishment?
Chilling with the baby on the beach.
And a fancy, shmancy veggie juice cocktail with a side of mummy porn.
If you don't hear from me again, it's because my legs and butt are hurting as though that kinky bastard Mr Grey had his way with me in The Red Room Of Pain.