Countdown to Dubai

Well, it’s only a week to go until we’re jetting off in our winged womb to the deserts of Dubai. The travel documents arrived today, and it’s all starting to get very exciting indeed.

My biggest concern right now is “what will I wear?” A question for the ages when it comes to women.

My wardrobe seems as bare as the top of Clinton Perren’s head and it’s a little depressing. I might need to go on a shopping trip for a shopping trip, although that is just utterly ridiculous, as in reality I’ve more clothes than I could possibly wear in three lifetimes. Just pick out all the black and white gear and throw it in the bag.

The Collingwood boys have been in a ‘high altitude’ training camp in South Africa for the past couple of weeks, and it will be very interesting to see if this extra training improves their performance. If the photo of Brodie Holland in the paper is anything to go by, oh yes indeedy doody, it’s been worth it. Depending on just how big the boys’ win over Adelaide might be, I’ll be on the phone to Terry Oliver in a flash with a recommendation for the Bulls’ training regime for next season. Let’s face it – it can’t hurt. The only way is up from here.

I’ve been doing a little ‘high altitude’ training of my own over the past couple of weeks, although mine is confined to walking the hills of Hamilton and Ascot. Trust me, get a whiff of the heady scent of real estate in this neighbourhood and you’ll pop a nosebleed in an instant.

I’ve been a little on the sporadic side with my exercise regime of late – at my last checkup my doctor told me that I should keep exercising and eat the right foods, but I misheard her and thought she said “keep accessorising and buy the right shoes”. Oops. Easy enough mistake to make and consequently the primary working out I was doing was on ebay.

So, I thought I might try and turn my barge-ass into a pleasure-craft before the barge turns into a cargo freighter and I’m charged excess baggage on the flight. I’ve been up at 4:00am with my trusty hound pounding the pavement and thinking slim thoughts. There’s nothing quite like a tubby greyhound and a scorching case of Catholic guilt to spur a girl out of bed and into the trackpants faster than you can say “size 6 here I come”.

I’ve even been walking to work, although the satisfaction of that has been somewhat diminished by the fact that the UV index has been hitting the extreme mark of 14 by 8:00am each day. It’s necessary to leave home at 6:00am so that I don’t resemble a nuclear war survivor by the time I arrive in the office. It would seem just a little futile to be getting healthy and have buns of steel, only to find out that you’ve got 6 months to live because you’ve developed a stage 5 melanoma. My skin doesn’t like the sun and there’s no point in trying to change its mind. Pale is beautiful – just ask Nicole Kidman and her laser therapist.

Just as an aside on a completely unrelated topic (although maybe not that unrelated – I do kind of feel the size of a whale) - I have to walk past the Japanese Embassy on my way to work, and I’ve noticed that they’ve got security guards outside all the time now. Originally I thought that they must have a heavy entertainment schedule going, but have realised that it’s because of the whale protesting. Way to go! I am a cyber-activist myself and have sent off loads of letters and signed petitions in protest of whaling. Clearly something’s being done about this insidious trade and that makes me smile as I nod politely to the beefy blokes standing guard every morning. I’ll bet the uniform manufacturers didn’t quite envisage that they’d be dressing people the size of major appliances, but you get that on the big jobs.

It’s also wonderful to see that the Collingwood boys have been doing some fabulous work with the people in the African communities while they’ve been on their training camps. I really hope I get to chat with a couple of them about that and hear their stories. It’s always lovely to see footballers doing constructive things in the community rather than destructive things. Exhibit A – that idiot Wayne Carey, although he deserves not a moment of my time to comment further.

I hope the Pies are having a wonderful time and nurturing their skills both on and off the field. I can hardly wait to see them in action. Go Pies!