Why is it that when the likes of Jennifer Aniston or Reece Witherspoon attempt a light jog around the block it looks effortless and sexy, yet I somehow get reduced to a red, sweaty, out of breath mess? And this isn't me over-exaggerating either, oh no no. On a run, I think I caught a small child pull on its mother's hand, look up and say "Mummy, why is that tomato running around?" in genuine fear. Okay that didn't happen, but still, you get the point.
Just when I was about to give it all up, assign myself to the sofa where I shall rot under piles of cheesy puffs and Pop Tarts I came across an image.
From this moment on, Kate Hudson, I shall forever be indebted to you: