fat bottoms and paddy fields

I went for a run this morning, for the first time in about a year. I had to meet my co-runner at six thirty outside camp, and I was so nervous I was awake at about five. Turns out, I was right to be nervous. My running buddy was another mum, who is lovely, and not a scary racing snake. Nevertheless, I was out of breath within three paces, and pretty much incapable of conversation as we trotted pleasantly (in her case)/in a nightmareish lumbering waddle (in my case) through the paddy fields. Occasionally we passed a local or two and were generally regarded with utter incredulity. "What on earth are these fat-bottomed bideshi women doing, staggering around our farm at this time in the morning," was what I could pretty much hear them thinking. The mud and the shame of my fitness levels aside, it was blooming lovely to get out into the fresh air and green fields and escape the urban sprawl for a bit. I came back all springy and full of bonhomie (that's endorphins for you), but the awful reality of having woken up at the crack of dawn is now kicking in and I feel the need for a cat nap coming on...