Best things about Sunday mornings. Not getting up or at least not having to. Knowing you can sit over coffee for too long and put food in too late and fail to comb your hair for hours. And then there’s the not going to the gym. It’s not just the not going. It’s the knowing that today you don’t need to because your weeks work has been done. Chins have been upped (if assisted), legs have been raised and prowlers pushed (and if that’s a new one to you I will explain in detail). The Prowler said Pete the trainer is your best friend. You will learn to love it. He didn’t say how long it would take to learn this love and to be honest I think he might just have been fibbing. A prowler is a triangular metal thing that you essentially load with weights and push up and down a 15 metre track. It’s like hell on grass (fake grass). It makes your legs burn and your heart feel like its going to pop right out of your chest. It can make you feel sick and causes you to fall over and they have the audacity to call one of its gut-retching sessions “sweet sixteen”. There is NOTHING sweet about it. So, on Sunday it’s just great to know that the prowler is sitting all alone in a darkened gym. Today i don’t care. Tomorrow come 1 o’clock – well, that’s another thing.