Macbeth - Hubble, bubble, toil and trouble (not the true quote but it sounds so much better)

Bootcamp 2 was surprisingly enjoyable? Sure, I felt a bit pukey and dizzy at the beginning, but that was more to do with the crazy heat outside and the banana smoothie that my body didn't have time to digest than the death by exercise. In fact, the heat was almost in my favour, as it meant we couldn't be pushed too hard or we'd all pass out.

The wheel barrow was culled - and replaced by the crocodile - which involves writhing along the floor with your elbows and knees out to the side... most natural. I did manage more press ups and box jumps. I doubled my jumping jack/burpee medley but the running distance slowed, I got to tree 5 on the second trip to the helipad (which I hope I can recognise this Sunday).

In fact, there were only 5 of us. Mr Ed Hardy T-shirt was there, but had been out on the piss all week so had done zero exercise and felt rough. Little Miss Ultramarathon was there and whizzing around the activities in a sporty person type fashion. Herman the Incredible Shrinking Man was there doing his thing, as was the 19 year old uber-ripped Keira Knightley doppelganger. So we all got that little bit extra attention from Dora, our Trainer.

We could only spend an hour outside as it was just too darn hot but spent over an hour and a half inside. THe TRX room felt like heaven with its gloriously cooling aircon and pumping tunes courtesy of DJ Anil, who mixes tapes for Dora's Spin classes over at Pure Fitness on the big island. So we lunged and squatted and lay prone and lay supine and pretended to climb the rigging and ride the catamaran and many varieties of fun things to trick one into exercise. We rolled around on the Noddytown bricks a bit more, which was much less painful, and even rather amusing, particularly when humping the giant pink cylinder to smooth out those inner thigh muscles. If I haven't had the giggles in an exercise class I rarely want to go back.

Drama ensued, as our Trainer is an advocate of natural births, and Mr Ed Hardy's wife is pregant and heavily skeptical. The fact that Mrs UltraMarathon specialises in pregnant lady physio meant everyone was weighing in... Certainly not the bootcamp I was envisaging! Much more Earth Mothery.

I bounced away from the class and went home to make magical feasts to keep me sustained for the next few days. I made a giant pot of pea, lettuce and mint soup and panfried some scallops in lemon juice. Alas, the magic was horribly lacking. I had made the same dish using relatively expensive organic items from 360 in Central a few weeks ago and it had been divine. This time the ingredients were from the local supermarket Wellcome. Everything had to be thrown away. It tasted foul! I do suspect this may be in some part due to sobriety and exercise so my body is actually talking to me... this is going to be a pricey business! But well worth it in the end.

Rest of the day was spent sunbathing on my roof and the beach and having a wonderful organic meal at my friend Laurence and Carey's house. Organic. May be pricey. But just tastes so God damn gooood.

Since then there's been yoga, and pilates and swimming. A bit of work inbetween, but when you're teaching teenagers the finer points of feature writing and Twilight plotlines, it doesn't really seem like work as I used to know it.

Still pondering whether to move to Melbourne or South Africa or England next year. Still finding gothic creatures on my second floor stairs - this month has included a giant rat, a teeny tiny bat and a horny toad. All alive and well at first, but tend not to fare so well the next time I see them. I guess I shall have to start rescuing them and taking them outside before the cat or the heat gets to them... But the thought of trying to escort a rat off the premises as it scuttles about is rather hairy.

Off to see Harry Potter this evening, so shall see how they handle their familiars and try and pick up some tips.

Today is Day 26 of the sober!

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