Friday, January 2, 2009


Where to begin? Perhaps with the big drama of the moment. Garth and Hayley are back in it, resurrected from the dead – he’s like a flippen vampire this guy – what do we have to do to get rid of him – cut off his head and drive a stake through his heart?!
In all seriousness, I’m glad to have the big guy back – he’s quite inspirational to have around and his philosophical outlook on life is uplifting and rad – I look forward to our lunchtime conversations about life , the universe and bodybuilding.
Thursday was a real tester for Mary and I. I had to be rushed off to the physio in the morning as my body seems to think these last two weeks are just a bridge too far. My legs are holding on by a slender thread and I did those routines on the night strapped up more tightly than a Mummy at an athletics meeting. We got through it all, only to be called spastic by Mr. Tact himself, Tyrone. It’s the first time I’ve been in the firing line and I’d be lying if I said it didn’t affect me. Rationally one has to accept that it’s just a tv show and one shouldn’t take those comments personally, but the reality is that it’s been a tough 15 or so weeks, putting your private life (and personal relationships) on hold so that you can spend all your time sweating it out on the dance floor and then go out on national television dressed like a loon and make yourself completely vulnerable so that some guy with a ponytail can call you a spaz. Nice.
However, after I’d cried myself a river, I built a bridge and got over it. It did help a little bit telling Tyrone in the break that I thought his ponytail was cutting off the circulation to his brain. I hope he can take a joke, otherwise who knows what he’s going to call me this week. All the bitterness and sensitivity aside, I actually really dig Tyrone, I like his brutal honesty and his whole tough nut demeanor. It makes for great tv and most of the time his comments are constructive and they do give you something to work on going forward. I think the judges also have a tough job and it can’t be easy telling it how you see it and then half the country wants to moer you because of it.
I have managed to decipher the ‘spastic’ comment with the help of some interpreters and am working hard in the week ahead on posture and core strength. Basically what Tyrone is looking for is to dance more from my centre and through the floor and not so much through the outer extremities – no flapping about like a spaz. So that’s where we are at now – surging ahead with the Paso and the Tango and trying hard not to let the debilitating gastro stomach cramp vibes that had me lying in the foetal postion moaning like a depressed drunk last night get in the way of a triumphant return to the –floor.
Sorry this missive from strictly land is so short but time is at a premium and latin shoes wait for no man. Thanks for the support.

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