How I defied Su (no ‘e’)

I have a new personal trainer.

(I get some sessions with her as part of my excessively expensive gym membership- a fact I was only recently made aware of. Unfortunately, my gym membership runs out next month). My new personal trainer is called Su. (That’s not a typo. There’s no ‘e’. Don’t ask, I have no idea).

I met Su (yes, there’s still no ‘e’. Please get over it) a few weeks ago. ‘What are your training goals?’ She asked me sharply. I panicked. ‘I’d like to look good in my bikini,’ I said nervously. ‘OK,’ Su replied. ‘We have a lot of work to do.’ ‘Oh,’ I said sadly. ‘I thought I looked quite nice.’ This was the wrong answer, and Su ignored it entirely.

We started with a nutrition plan. I had to tell Su everything I normally ate and drank, and she had to stop wincing and sighing for long enough to write it down. It was all terribly stressful, so I was delighted when I was free to leave her and pop off to lunch.

‘I’ll be very good,’ I told myself as I sat down in Cafe Spice Namaste (

‘Ooh, curried venison puffs,’ I noticed. ‘Well, Su did say she wanted me to eat protein…’ I quietly plowed my way through barbary duck tikka and saag prawns, with a side of chicken tikka makhani (I care not for your bourgeois constructs on ‘what constitutes a side dish’).

It was the pudding that undid me. I had to try very hard not to dig into my neighbours once I had finished mine.

‘You know,’ I said thoughtfully to my sister later that day. ‘I’m not sure this new diet plan Su’s got me on is going to be that fun.’ ‘Really?’ My sister replied sarcastically. ‘A diet which only allows you to eat grilled protein and green vegetables might not be that interesting? Have you thought this through at all?’ I hadn’t.

And I enjoyed my (forbidden by Su) meal so much that I’m off to see Cyrus, the Cafe Spice Namaste chef, at next week’s Foodies Festival. ( Which looks absolutely nothing like the nutrition plan I’m meant to be following, and everything like a rollocking good time.

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