Living on a tropical island isn’t all its cracked up to be. White sandy beaches lined with palm trees, crystal clear water and lush tropical gardens is in fact my prison.
Yes, I know, you hate me. I’m sorry, but perhaps you should try living on a 8km2 island for 9 months and see how much you love it in the end.
The truth is Hayman is paradise. For a week. Well for me at least, some people love living there. The problem is, I’m a city girl. I want dirty and crazy and adventure, so idyllic tropical islands are not for me.
I became aware of how much this place is like a prison when I noticed myself doing something strange. I started exercising. Not my usual incidental exercise where I strap on a giant backpack and take the stairs, this is the real deal. Boxing classes, cross fit, boot camp and even running.
One must understand that I have never run in my life. I lie, when I was 15 I trained for a cross country race. Twice.
Now I find myself running 4 or 5 times a week. Like in prison, there’s nothing else to do.
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