Having two older sisters, I always looked up to both of them when I was growing up.
Jo was the cool older sister (six years my senior) and both Michelle and I always looked to her as an example of what to do next in our lives.
We’ve followed a similar pattern, more or less, ever since.
Michelle and I, being just 13 months apart, have grown up in each other’s pockets in lots of ways – same friends, same interests etc.
It’s been a blessing and a bit of a curse, although I wouldn’t change it for anything.
We do row more than most adults our age, so perhaps I should have known better when enrolling her as my personal fitness trainer. Man, does that girl love a bit of power!
Two weeks ago I asked her to help me on my ‘I have one year to go before our wedding and I want to lose a stone’ regime.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not moaning – I’m not allowed to. In fact she gives me ‘moan cards’ every time I dare to whinge during a workout session.
Initially this was quite a lot, but once I found out that exceeding my moan allowance meant that she inflicted punishments, such as the dreaded burpies or extra laps around the field, I kept my mouth shut.
It’s not fun – two weeks in, I’m physically knackered, my limbs are drained of energy and I’m on the verge of slapping her if she yells ‘no-one likes a fat bride’ as I hurl my butt (an admittedly somewhat slimmer butt) across Castle Field in Southsea.
Still, I admit I have lost weight. I’m trying not to weigh myself, but go by my clothes instead, so she’s clearly doing something right.
She’s a little scary though. I think the power has gone to her head.
When she found out (thanks mum) that I’d gone wedding cake tasting with Matt at Final Touch Cakes in Winchester (amazing by the way – we’ll have the most epic cake on the planet, even if I can’t eat any of it) and had a curry and drinks that evening, she made me get out of bed and do a workout on a Sunday. I’m now frightened to eat or drink anything for fear of her wrath!