It turns out that being forbidden from exercising was just the motivation I needed to start exercising again. And so it was that I found myself at the local leisure centre in the company of a group of women (and one man) in pursuit of better posture and a stronger core. As this was not an aerobic class and more about toning, I didn't think it qualified as proper exercise, therefore not really contravening doctor's orders.
In fact, most of the class involved sitting on, lifting up or bending over a Swiss exercise ball. Before we began, our teacher made the point that our knees should be neither higher nor lower than our hips when sitting on the ball. Looking around I realized I was the only one whose ball was half-inflated, which resulted in my knees being somewhere up around my ears. Thankfully, my neighbour was having the opposite problem and was perched precariously high up on hers. 'As our balls don't fit, why don't we swap?' I suggested. She agreed, while I stifled a bout of the giggles. You can't be reared on a diet of Carry On films and let that kind of innuendo pass you by. Judging by her non-reaction, I suspect she was not a fellow connoisseur.
The class continued without further incident and was proving quite a nice segue back into activity. That was until we had to roll right on top of our balls (snigger) and assume the press-up position. As soon as my head was lower than my body, I experienced an instant pounding headache that felt like my frontal lobe was going to explode. I even had to sit back down and hold my eyes as I thought they were going to fall out. Suffice to say, I didn't do any more press-ups.
Thankfully, once I sat up straight and the blood returned to the rest of my body, the pounding subsided and I felt fine. The teacher asked how it went. I have to say that, apart from the bit when I thought my head was going to fall off, I really enjoyed it. Finding stuff to do while I can't run may turn out to be a blessing in disguise. Though I must remember not to do anything that involves my head being between my legs. Or anyone else's for that matter.