Rookie Error No.1: please come and laugh at me

The only exercise and lifestyle blogs I have ever read have been full of optimism and excitement. Plus exclamation marks and smileys.
"Made it to the gym today!!!!!!!"
"Feeling AMAZING! So glad I started underwater Scottish pole-dancing!"
"My life is SO MUCH BETTER since I tried these fancy new diet pills made out of human intestine, they gross you out so much that you don't want to eat anything else all day! :-)!!"

You will be relieved to know that this blog is not going to be like that. Living in the land of cheery can-do optimism as I do, I like to pride myself on a certain British sourness, a disinclination to believe that today was just the BEST DAY EVER unless at the very least you have compared it to some of the other good days you have been fortunate to have. Also, whilst I will confess to enjoying the exercise thing more than I anticipated, it isn't up there with a lavish wine-tasting, drugs or wild group sex (so I hear, she says hastily, glancing at the unworn clerical attire sitting in the cupboard). So I feel disclined to rave. I could, if pushed, agree that exercising feels at times QUITE NICE, and is almost up there with a decent cup of tea on a good day: but you know, a cup of tea takes much less effort and the rewards are instantaneous.
But I have got to find something to be positive about, otherwise I won't go back to the gym, will I? So in the spirit of positive thinking I am sharing my stupid mistakes, so you can all laugh at me. Thus my misadventures at the gym will provide some form of public service. And hopefully they will remind me not to be so bloody stupid again.

Me: ooh, I really feel a bit thirsty, I'd love a drink, running a bit late though, I know, I'll have one in the gym. Oh no, I'd rather swim. Must make sure boobs don't fall out of my costume again. Ooh, this swimming lark is great isn't it, I'm feeling fabulous. Bit tired now, fancy a dip in that warm spa bath. Good heavens how nice, I am not the fattest person here today. Hello, elderly Asian lady taking up half the spa, you are my new best friend. Ooh look, nice bit of eye-candy there. Mustn't look like I'm staring, don't want him to be freaked out by being leched by strange-podgy-woman. He's looking at me, how - oh my GOD! My boob has popped out of my costume again! I am so sorry random goodlooking man, you must think I am flashing you! Right, that's it, back into the pool. I'm swimming until the shame ebbs away, good heavens, I've nearly done 2 km. If you don't count the ten-minute break in the middle of course. Must finish that. Gosh, that wasn't too bad at all, I feel amazing (mad endorphin rush during which I make wild plans for longdistance swimming), right, must pick up SmallButDetermined and head for the car, oh my God I am going to die. I can't sit. I can't breathe. I am DEAD. How odd. I didn't think I'd trained that hard. Right, well, I'll go home and have a cup of tea. Good lord, caffeine hasn't worked, I am going to DIE...it's half an hour later and I am still reeling, have to be on form for school pick-up soon, what am I going to do?

And then, of course, I realised. I was dehydrated. Two litres of water later, and I felt quite normal again. So. If you are going to exercise, it helps to drink water too. Just like the experts tell you. Who'd a thought it?

Now I just have to solve the problem of my permanently escaping boobs.