“Octavius, Cassius and Brutus, come hither … Hail thine Caesar”

It was that time of the class again – Old Fart’s brain had been depleted of too much oxygen and he was pretending to quote Shakespeare again. Even in our fatigued sweaty state we knew that line was made up!

But instead of applause, all the Oscar-NOT-nominated Fishmonger was rewarded with was grunting.

That was until Nurse declared:

“That’s enough exercise now, surely it’s time for coffee” – allow me to introduce you to another Empowered member of the 6.30am class. Nurse for 30 years – as tough as they make them but to look at her you wouldn’t think butter would melt in her mouth. The most endearing feature that Nurse possesses is the guarantee that there will be no sugar coating – she will just tell you how it is.

Poor Fur Face was experiencing a mutiny on his ship … so he did what any personal trainer does in that situation – started to count down. Have you ever noticed that personal trainers are incapable of counting? As Nurse says, surely it can’t be that hard 1,2,3,4 all the way to 10.

Just one more set, I could hear him saying – hold that plank: 90 seconds, half way, 20 seconds – and the dreaded last 5 seconds – 5…..4…..3…..slower than the Thunderbirds launch ….2…….andddddddd……………. 1.

The last 5 seconds have dragged out for at least another 90 seconds.

Sigh of relief as the Hour of Power has concluded but before coffee club commences I have to endure my weekly weigh in.

FLASHBACK – last Saturday night and a team dinner.

I had been on fire all week – exercising every day and tracking my food. Dilemma – invitation to a fancy restaurant which I had never been to. That’s ok, my confident Pesky Voice reassuring me, just have white fish for main, no entrée or dessert and definitely no alcohol.

Setting – Woolloomooloo wharf on a balmy evening. Ambience relaxed, lighting dim, company superb. Waiter straight out of a David Beckham catalogue stares into my eyes and asks me would I like a cocktail – well it would be just rude to refuse – so I peruse the cocktail menu. THE CLEANSER – that sounds healthy right? Pesky Voice can’t wait to inform me in her disapproving tone that the sugary clusters around the rim exceeded my entire carb limit for the day! Time to choose an entrée. How many of you could go to Otto’s and not order their famous pasta? I blocked out Pesky Voice and succumbed. Luckily Fur Face was too engrossed in his spirit loaded cocktail to notice what I was ordering – and on the other side of me Apollo was inhaling his carpaccio oblivious to the world around him. I ate my pasta in peace and savoured every mouthful. YUM. YUM. YUM.

The sensible choice for main would be to share a dish for two with your personal trainer, that way he surely has to take half the responsibility for any unwanted calories? A kilo of slow-cooked lamb shoulder later, not to mention a few dollops of the creamiest mash, I pretty much had killed Pesky Voice who had sadly succumbed to a food-induced coma. The forbidden memory of flavour came flooding back to me like a long lost relative – there were no lean, tasteless kangaroo burgers in sight on this wonderful evening.

You will be relieved to hear that I did show some restraint and not even look sideways at the dessert menu … however it is my duty to report that after an entrée and a main, Old Fart polished off an Affogato or two not to mention another few glasses of wine.

So when I hopped on the scale I didn’t look down, I had been back on track since the dinner but was nervous…

Fur Face gave nothing away and said we weren’t going to worry about the weigh-in. He congratulated me on a good job getting back to tracking after enjoying a meal out. Hmmmm.

30 minutes later when the caffeine had restored my body back to its natural chaotic state I casually turned to Fur Face and asked him exactly how much weight I had put on.

Don’t worry about it, he said, you only put on half a kilo of lamb! Wise Fur Face continued … and that’s why you exercise and try and eat well most of the time so you can enjoy eating out McFancy every now and then.

And there was Old Fart sitting opposite smugly smiling away. He had lost 1KG .… go figure!

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