In truth I am a bit of an exercise addict.

Despite my hectic work schedule - 12 hour days are a usual occurence - I manage to drag my tired ass down to the gym 3/4 mornings a week, and out for a run at weekends.

My old days of being overweight (well, I still have those cuddly love handles, baby) are over, and I don't feel bad for it. But the issues with being in a constant morning dash - usually hungover from a spontaeneous midweek bender - is that I'm half asleep en route to the treadmill/pool/pavement.

This is when the dreaded fashion errors happen. I envy those preened babes in matching swoosh-emblazoned outfits from top to trainers. I usually show up in what could pass as a clown outfit (odd socks, unsightly gut-hugging promo tee with holes in, bed hair) but the worst faux pas is getting my clothes inside out.

I was half through a gym session last week when I realised my running leggings were inside out - the label flapping about on my backside. And once, in the pool, not only was my swimsuit inside out, but I'd managed to leave my bra on. I bet Paula Radcliffe never felt such a plonker...