Wednesday 13 December 2017

Coffee Morning Whispers: At our age, we've more leaks than a sinking ship


'The problem is, when you get to our age, bits start growing that shouldn't be growing or bits start falling off that shouldn't be falling off or, in your case…," Patsy said, pointing a fork with the remnants of some lemon drizzle cake attached at Maggie who was looking, to say the least, a little downcast.

"Leaking from places you shouldn't be leaking."

A couple of weeks ago, having been impressed by my 'devotion' to Crossfit, Maggie decided to give it a go and, within a short space of time, became as addicted as I am towards getting fit. This addiction manifests itself by the number of squats (50, in case you are interested) I do in front of the mirror every night.

My other half, who is usually in bed reading his book (something along the lines of How to Get Rich Really Quick without Really Trying) only last night, looked over his glasses and said, "Nicki Minaj better watch out, she's got competition in the ass department."

This was disturbing on a couple of levels. Firstly, was he intimating that my ass was bigger than hers and, secondly, he seems to know too much about Nicki Minaj, right, for my liking.

Anyway, the other evening Maggie and I were going through our workout of the day at our class. This involved a lot of double-under skips and dead jumping from the ground onto wooden boxes (much harder than it sounds).

Maggie has difficulty with double-unders as she can't coordinate her legs with the rope and often ends up wrapping it around her neck, but that was the least of her problems.

She stopped in mid-skip and staggered about a bit. I thought she was about to fall over.

"What's wrong?" I asked her. "I think my bladder is about to fall out," she replied.

Scott, the coach, noticed she was slacking and signalled to her to continue.


"I can't," she cried. "What's the problem?" he wanted to know.

"I've had two kids. Nothing works like it should," she replied.

Now, Scott is a great coach and understands that Maggie and I left school a long time ago. He knows we have difficulty counting and following instructions and can fall behind the class.

However, on this occasion, when he realised what Maggie was on about, he blanched and did a runner to the other side of the gym.

Next up was the dead jumping.

"Keep your legs close together as possible," I whispered to her. She got through it albeit by crossing her legs towards the end.

"You know what you need?" Patsy said.


"Training pants."

Oh dear.

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