DAY 1:
15 sit ups
5 crunches
5 leg raises
10 sec plank
DAY 2:
17 situps (it says to do 20, but 17’s all I can manage)
6 crunches
7 leg raises
10s plank
3 separate thoughts of “Hmmm, bit stiff and sore this evening”
DAY 3:
20 sit ups
8 crunches
4 rather worrying thoughts of “Hang on, that doesn’t feel right”
3 leg raises
2 thoughts of “No, there’s definitely something hurting”
12s plank with slightly ominous twinges in the lower back
DAY 4:
1 resolution: “I’m actually going to do a warm up and stretch before today’s exercise, which is what I should’ve done yesterday and the day before”
25 sit ups done gingerly
1 or 2 thoughts of “Hmmm, that feels OK…”
5 crunches
1 firm decision of “That’ll do with regard to crunches for now”
6 leg raises
2 proddings of flab to see if there are any new muscles yet
4 proddings of rather sore muscles that already exist
10s plank with added “cake as reward!” mantra
DAY 5:
REST DAY!!! with 5 situps, just to keep things going, thus missing the point about having a Rest Day
DAY 6:
FORGOT ABOUT DOING ANY EXERCISE DAY!!!!
DAY 6, no wait, DAY 7!:
2 thoughts of “ooh, I’m feeling a bit stiff”
35 situps out of sheer guilt for having forgotten yesterday
5 crunches
1 “Ow! No, really, OW!”
1 verrrry gentle crunch
1 pause with added “hmmmm”
4 leg raises
1 back rub from wife later that evening with added “Oh you poor thing!” and also “Just think how firm and muscular and sexy you’ll be after all this!”
1 sudden thought of “Hang on a sec, did she just say that last bit? Or did you think she said it, but you actually said it in her voice inside your own head? Either way, she’s gonna fancy me rotten when I’ve finished this Facebook Fitness Challenge and look like Daniel Craig and not that fat cunt Daniel Phnut!”
DAY 7 (fuck it, I’m going with the Day I’m *supposed* to be doing):
1 getting out of bed feeling sore and having something in your back go “click”. Oh crap.
1 rather tender putting on of shoes
1 phone call to boss saying “I put my back out playing squash”
1 blatant lie. You’ve never played squash in your life, you lardy slob.
15 gentle, half-hearted sit ups
2 crunches
1 full episode of Top Gear rerun on Dave
4 nice cups of tea
1 back rub from your wife with added “Does it hurt if I press *there*?” Yes darling, it fucking does – OW! “There’s no need to be cross, I AM trying to help…”
DAY 8:
REST DAY!!! Blagged off work again.
1 Bargain Hunt
2 episodes of Top Gear
2 hours of internet porn
1 bacon sandwich
DAY 9:
BACK TO WORK BUT MILKING IT A BIT DAY!!! Two other people off work, though. A lot to catch up on.
10 sit ups
4 quite painful crunches
2 wonderings of: “If I, an overweight, unfit bloke in his late 30s who hasn’t done exercise in decades, really should’ve done a keep fit challenge posted on Facebook with no medical advice beforehand?”
3 leg raises
1 very very hot bath with the wife’s Radox relaxo bubbles
DAY 10:
REALLY NOT SURE IF I WANT TO DO THIS ANYMORE DAY!!!
14 situps
1 feeling OK so far…
8 crunches
1 “Hmmm, this feels fine”
6 leg raises
18s plank
1 “Hey, maybe my body is getting used to it. I’m back on track!”
DAY 11 (why is it that when I say ‘DAY 11’ in my head, it automatically comes out in a Geordie accent? Oh, I think we British people exposed to reality TV all know the answer to that one…):
TENTATIVE CONFIDENCE RETURNING DAY!!!
20 situps
11 crunches
9 leg raises
25s plank
1 “Well done me! Have a cake as a reward!” “Thanks me, mmmm, don’t mind if I do!”
DAY 12:
REST DAY!!! but actually did 12 situps and 5 crunches, just to keep on track
DAY 13:
30 situps
14.5 crunches
1 very sudden feeling of something taut snapping in your back
1 “Oohhhhh shit, I think I’ve overdone it…”
1 shooting pain down the right leg
1 “JESUS FUCKING SHITFACED WANKER CHRIST, THAT HURTS!!!”
246 yellings of “OW OW OW OW OW!!”
1 “Why are you lying on the floor saying ‘fuck’ a lot, Daddy?”
1 wife coming in to find you mouthing swear words and telling you off for swearing in front of the child
1 comment to child: “No, Daddy can’t carry you up to bed tonight, I’ve got a really owwy back”.
1 back rub from wife, with her saying a bit resentfully “I’m not doing this as a treat, you know…” and “I did tell you to take it easy…”
1 night of completely no sleep
DAY 14:
WAITING ON THE PHONE TO THE LOCAL GP FOR HOURS TRYING TO GET A LAST-MINUTE APPOINTMENT DAY!!!
1 phone in sick. Boss no longer sympathetic and very obvious note of suspicion in his voice. Makes remark that bad backs are currently a very contagious disease sweeping the office, but he could really do with you back in as soon as possible.
1 Massive Guilt Trip! ALL ABOARD! *chuff-chuff-chuff*
1 visit to the doctor
1 resigned diagnosis from doctor: “Let me guess: 30 day abs challenge off Facebook? You’re the third one I’ve seen today…”
1 very kindly “I think you’ve overdone it. Maybe next time you should really get some advice from a physiotherapist before doing this sort of thing at your age” which translates as: “What the actual fuck do you think you’re playing at, at your age, with your level of fitness, you dozy fat wanker?! Do you believe everything you read on the internet?? Fuck’s sake…”
1 sick note, good for one week off work! YIPPEE!!!
1 glorious ringing of work saying you have a sick note.
1 boss saying in a resigned voice “FIIINE! OK, well, get well soon. If you can do anything at home, let me know and I’ll email some stuff to you”
(Subtext: It’s just me and Sandra in the office, which is great for our illicit affair, but shit-all is being done, what with no one else in, and all the shagging we’re doing in the stationary cupboard and once on my desk for the LOLz. I can’t bully you back to work, and I know you’re going to eke out the sicknote for all it’s worth, but I really need you in ASA-fucking-P.
Your response: Fuck him. Fuck work. Go for it Sandra, you deserve it! I’m totally legit on the sick for a bit)
1 prescription for Tramadol and Diazepam
1 checking up on the internet what Tramadol is. It’s the stuff Glaswegian smackies nick from the local chemist. OPIATE-TASTIC!!!
1 dose each of Tramadol and Diazepam. 30 minutes later, Bargain Hunt now made of pillows. Mmmmmmm…
1 “KRULL’S ON CHANNEL 5! FUCK YEAH!!!”
1 refusal from the wife on request of back rub with added: “Look, can you just take it a bit more gently in future? Because every time you put your back out, it means I have to take up the slack around here, and I just don’t have the time or energy to be your nurse on top of everything else”
1 checking up of symptoms on the internet. Find support group for victims of 30 Day Abs Challenge. What the hell do you mean by “in pain for months and unable to work”???!!!
DAY 15:
FUCK EXERCISE FOR A LARK DAY!!!
1 “Got my TV…”
1 “Got my tea…”
1 “Got my sofa, despite doctor’s advice to keep mobile and not lying prone all day…”
1 “Got my fluffy blanket…”
4 joyful realisations of “Got my pain drugs…”
1 “Woo! Diagnosis Murder whilst doped up on Diazepam!”
12 woozy thoughts of “Hey, this is just like being a student again!”
7 feelings of “SORTED!”
1 wife coming home with child and shopping and sarcastically going “Oh, don’t get up and help then!”
3 whining replies of “But I’ve got a bad back!”
2 or 3 inaudible grumbles as she stomps off to the kitchen carrying 8 bags in from the car
1 child coming over and stroking face “Poor Daddy…”
4 feelings of smugness
1 watching Frozen with child AGAIN, but secretly acknowledging its utter awesomeness, and even singing along to Do You Want To Build A Snowman? with child
DAY 16:
BORED OF LYING ON THE SOFA DAY!!!
1 snarky comment from wife (“can you at least put a wash on?”) which makes you feel somewhat guilty for most of the day
4 thoughts of “daytime telly really is fucking shit…”
1 turning off of Jeremy Kyle in disgust at all of humankind, but mostly at screeching unfaithful alcoholic junkie doleites having fights on national daytime television, and of course Jeremy Kyle and his fucking reprehensible pleb-baiting
1 blissful Tramadol’d-up falling asleep to a David Attenborough DVD instead. “Mmmm, rainforest animallllssssss…”
1 child coming home, enthusiastically rushing up to you and slamming their fists into your prone gut and balls, waking you up in the worst possible way
1 “NYYYEEEAAAAARRRGGGHHHH!!!! FFFFFUCCKKK OFFFFF!!!!!”
1 child running from the room in floods of tears and wailing
1 painful struggling off sofa with fulsome apologies, and promises of cuddles and lollipops to make amends
1 very stern wife reminding you not to use bad language in front of child, and ordering you off the sofa, and set to work tidying in the kitchen and “It won’t hurt your back to wash a few pots and pans”. It actually does, but you keep quiet. You have spent all your sympathy points, possibly until the autumn when the ‘flu kicks in, and even then you’ll be pushing your luck
1 very chilly family atmosphere for remainder of evening and bedtime cuddle from child somewhat lacking in affection
1 wife very obviously utterly and totally fed up of you, your whimpering, Top Gear, and back rubs
DAY 17:
VERY BORED OF THIS NOW DAY!!!
1 “Oh, so this is what the lyrics to Comfortably Numb is all about…”
7 thoughts of “Fucking hate that twat off Homes Under the Hammer… and that weird giggly cow as well…”
2 realisations of “I’m a bit bored of Channel 5 showing Krull now, despite it being awesome. What did happen to leading actor Ken Marshall anyway?”
1 looking up on Ken Marshall’s filmography on IMDB
1 “Wow, he was in Deep Space 9??! I don’t remember him in that at all…”
1 finding a picture of him and being a bit disappointed because, somewhere in the dark cupboard in the very back of your normally heterosexual mind, you thought he was a bit… phwoar
1 switching off Top Gear and quietly going upstairs, slightly disgusted with yourself
2 answering of work emails, and doing some work from home in a massive cloud of guilt
5 thoughts that: “Possibly maybe could and should go back to work tomorrow. I’ve got a couple more days on sicknote, but…” *gloomy guilt*
1 child not saying “Poor Daddy” anymore, but instead poking you on the arm and saying “Mummy says you’re milking it a bit. Can I have another lollipop?”
1 wife enthusiastically encouraging return to work, some movement, help around the house, and return to normality, and her saying “Can we just agree that you won’t do this sort of fitness challenge ever again??”, which implies “If you’re so stupid as to attempt some sort of Facebook-based fitness programme, you’ll be reliving your wild student days by sleeping in the bath”.
3 glum realisations that for some considerable time, maybe for a year or so, you’re not getting any (NSFW!) “Adult Sexy Funtime” back rubs from the wife, but that you owe her BIG.
DAY 18:
NEVER EXERCISING AGAIN DAY!!!
1 returning to work to discover boss has knackered his back “playing golf” and is off for three weeks. Tempted to send boss a massive bouquet of flowers, particularly the ones that smell like cum, and sign it “Sandra xxx” and hope that his wife reads it
14 very firm resolutions of “I’m gonna stick to the Wii-Fit from now on. And maybe take up badminton. Badminton’s painless, right?”
Daddy Burns the Salad 
