Foam me up Scotty

Since bothering to change my bank details and managing to survive one whole month in The Borders, I think I may now officially be a Scottish resident. Against the odds I’ve endured four weeks of solitude, relentless rain, enormous hills, undecipherable local lingo and the company of one very handsome but rather grumpy Scotsman. I think I may stay a while…

Thank you for all of your advice on assimilating into Scottish life. Since last week’s blog 10 things I know about Scotland I’ve also learnt some cool new phrases; bogal being my favourite. It means window shopping/having a look, and it’s a Jamaican dance craze. I’m still none the wiser as to what ‘the back of nine’ means. There appears to be a few regional variations to this one. But I am now safely armed with enough local lingo to know that Ken is a word and not a bloke and eating chips with absolutely everything is common practice.

Since mastering the art of communication, I finally mustered up the courage to visit a local physio and get my suspicious knee looked at. She pummelled me to within an inch of my life leaving actual visible bruises in her wake, so I definitely got my money’s worth. Fortunately it turns out I’ve just pulled a muscle in my thigh, so Rhalourella will run to the ball again.

Don’t be fooled by the foam roller’s unassuming appearance

Since then, upon advice, I’ve invested in a foam roller. Despite working in fitness publishing for a few years now, I’ve never actually investigated the murky world of foam rolling before. Ultraboy was sceptical about the introduction of a foam roller in our life, arguing that it was a fad. He studied at the school of true grit and cut his fitness teeth sneaking up sheer rock faces and kayaking down voluptuous gorges before he could even talk, so he didn’t see the point in a puny roll of foam, arguing that a little 20-mile run round the block would sort out his aches and pains. But I forced him to have a go anyway, because I’m a girl, and we have mystical powers that make even the most stubborn Scotsmen do what we want. So I made him mount my puny roll of blue foam on the living room carpet, and sat back to watch him wince like a little girl.

I’m not really a secret sadist and Ultraboy is still the distilled essence of badass. Even in his currently injured state (catastrophic kayaking accident ripped his arm from his socket and now it pops out all the time) he’s the fittest person I know. But even the baddest man in town is no match for a foam roller. Those compact tubes of bubble-filled rubber really bloody hurt. Especially if you’re a runner with thighs like tightly wound granite. It’s like they seek out the pain and drill laser death rays through their tubular foaminess and straight into your soul. Don’t believe me? Jump onboard a foam roller for five minutes and call me back. I defy you not to cry for your mama after stiff foam and IT Band meet and get to know each other intimately upon your thigh.

Even the chickens are sceptical

Despite the extreme agonising pain, the evil roll of foam has now become a staple part of our nightly routine and we’ve been taking turns to sodomise our thighs in front of the telly. It makes quite a fun spectator sport. Here’s hoping that a few weeks of extreme rollering will result in two lean, mean running machines that conquer any race thrown our way. Failing that, it doubles up as a brightly coloured chicken viewing platform.

Meanwhile back on the ranch, to supplement my writing I’ve been helping out some friends Tim and Phil with their bootcamp Sexy in the City. I grew up on the same street as Tim and we’ve been friends since we were about 4. Together the boys run bootcamps that offer fun and friendly workout sessions for city chicks. If any of you happen to live near London Liverpool Street and fancy honing your body to shmoking hot sexy proportions, tell them I sent you. If only Sexy in the City operated in the wilderness too. But Sexy in the Boggy Field doesn’t have quite the same ring to it…


  1. July 13, 2012 / 11:06 pm

    I laugh so hard because I completely understand. I have a love/hate relationship with Scotland. Sexy In The Boggy Field. Nah. Just pile on the chips.
    What exactly do you do with the roller?

    • July 16, 2012 / 12:20 pm

      Hey caron! I fear I have been piling on the chips… a little too much!
      The foam roller massages you, but it really really hurts. I wouldn’t go there unless you absolutely have to. Hope you’re well! x

  2. July 16, 2012 / 12:53 pm

    You’ll come to love your foam roller, mines been a part of my life for 2 years and is used after every training session. I couldn’t get through my half and full marathon training without it, although sports massages help too

    P.S We don’t all east chips with everything in Scotland, clearly just something to do with the dodgy central belt diet I think.

    • July 16, 2012 / 1:04 pm

      Thanks Sarah, I’m learning to love it, sort of… And I was kidding about the chips! It’s a joke mostly at my boyfriend’s expense. He is guilty of ordering chips with everything. Otherwise he’s a healthy eater though. Hope your running is going well 🙂

  3. rubydont
    August 4, 2012 / 11:13 pm

    foam roller. FOAM. I recommend a decorative giant stone marble from your local asian supermarket (or enormous ball bearing!) NOT foamy, way more hardcore!! and… fits in your sock drawer and massages bits even foam rollers cant reach. A chicken couldnt sit on one mind.

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