Warning: Wildebeest seen mid-air

Ladies and gents, I have done something I thought I would never do. Be warned, pigs are flying somewhere near you - I have joined a gym.

Those who know me will know I am the least likely person to ever be found in a place of public exercise or come to think of it, private exercise. However, the last 18 months of sitting at a desk job have meant that I have seen my waistline expand slightly and my levels of fitness, abysmal as they already were, sink to new lows.

So, yesterday the Boyfriend and I went to our local gym and signed on the dotted line. It's not the first time that I've belonged to a gym, I'll be honest. Years ago, following my first knee dislocation, I belonged to the extremely posh gym that is round the corner from me. However, when my membership shot from £40 to £120 once I turned 16, I decided that I couldn't allow myself to watch my mother pay through the nose for something I hardly ever used. Now, the £80 fee is deducted from MY bank account, which will hopefully be enough motivation for me to hit the cross-trainer.

That, or it'll be a very expensive lesson in my own laziness.