Super Alice!

I have reluctantly invested in some Go Faster running leggings. They aren't the most stylish item in my wardrobe, and I'm pretty sure you wouldn't catch Kate Moss strutting down the runway in them at London Fashion week, but at least I can now tell people I am an 'athlete'.

I am unsure as to when one becomes an athlete, but I'm rather certain that the deciding factor is all in the leggings - the tighter, the shinier, the rubberier, the better.

I proudly showed my colleagues my new sportswear, only to be greeted with sniggers and wetsuit related comments (perhaps an allusion to my wet bike ride in the canal), but I'm becoming rather fond of them.

I feel rather similar to a superhero, albeit a frightfully ineffectual one. All superheros maintain the need to have a secret identity, and it seems they are powerless without their often shiny and lycra laden ensemble.

Once I have managed to wriggle* my way into my running get up, tied my hair back into the tightest of ponytails (not dissimilar to Vicky Pollard), tied the laces on my trainers in a triple knot, and activated Britney on my iPhone I suddenly have a superhuman thirst to go hell-bent for leather.

This is most definitely a placebo effect, but it's jolly well working, and my cat woman come wetsuit attire seems to have been worth the £33.95 I paid for them.

*Girls, imagine your 'skinny jeans', you know the ones you never throw away, or stick on eBay as you're certain that one day you WILL fit in to them? Now, imagine trying to get your calfs, thighs and hips into these jeans. I am certain you have all experienced a scenario when you're jumping up and down, yanking the waist up, squatting to try and make them that little bit stretchier, and lying on the floor, pulling in rage, sweating with anger and gritting your teeth in the deepest of frustration - this is my exact routine when trying to slip (!) into my Go Faster leggings...