This time last year, I had a brainwave.
It only tends to happen once a year, so I’m hoping the next one turns up soon, to be honest. I had a startling realisation, than no 44 year old bloke has ever had before – that I was unfit.
Shocking, I know. How could that possibly have happened? I mean, I definitely got a fair bit of exercise – I’m a staircase owner for starters. Then there’s all that walking from the car to the office, and a fair bit of walking around the office to get cake, plus walking at the weekend to the bakers. To get cake. Cake seems to feature a bit doesn’t it?
Unfortunately, all this good-quality, high-impact, activity was causing my clothes to shrink to an alarming extent, and I was afflicted by a weird kind of bloating over all my body (especially my waist), so I decided I ought to try and do something about it. But what? I mean, there’s only miles and miles of beautiful scenery just outside my door, so what could I possibly do?
So I decided I might as well go out into this countryside, and walk about a bit until a good idea struck me. Whilst I’m at it, I thought, why not measure the walking-about- a-bit and make a note of it? And what if I set myself a target for 2012, say... 200 miles, after which I’d have to had come up with something? Some big hills would probably help in the decision-making process too.
165 miles later, and I’ve still not figured out what to do but, luckily, I’ve lost half a stone and the bloating seems to have receded a bit. My clothes appear to have stretched quite a lot too, and look a bit baggy on me. They just don’t make stuff like they used to.
Worryingly, my allocated time runs out soon, and I’ve only got 35 miles of walking left before I have to have come up with an idea. I’ve walked in snow, rain, high winds, sunshine, fog and cow poo, been whacked in the face by a branch, seen some amazing wildlife, shaggy cows with handlebars on their heads, the tidal bore at Arnside several times, and copious amounts of mud. All for nothing.
Just last week I was totally alone along the coast, when a heron swooped from the sky and landed in the water just a few feet away from me. Fair put me off my thinking it did.
I’ve listened to thousands of songs, said hello to hundreds of walkers, and nearly fallen flat on my big, fat, face at least a dozen times, and what has it done for me? Nothing. I still have absolutely no idea how to get fit, and have a great time whilst doing it. Or a T-shirt tan.
I’m so angry, I’ve gone right off cake, too.
Have a walking-about-a-bit weekend.
If you can.
This post first appeared in my 'Thank grumpy it's Friday' column in the North West Evening Mail on Friday 26th October 2012. This is the unedited version - you can view the printed/online version here The paper retitled this one as ''Taking steps to find a fitness solution". Yeah - I know...
This one got a trim of about 40 words. As always, you've got the full version, as I like you, and the contents of your underwear drawer. I mean attitude. Yes. Attitude. Absolutely not 'underwear drawer'. *cough*
(Actually listening to the radio today, as I'm at home on a weekday, so it's the Steve Wright Show on BBC Radio2.)
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