The gym won't fix it for me
PUBLISHED: 10:40 12 January 2006 | UPDATED: 09:27 06 May 2010
I MUST admit that I am not the first in the gym to jump on the treadmill. Truth is, I have not seen the inside of a gym for years and the workings of keep fit equipment are alien to me. Don t get me wrong, I am not against people working themselves up int
I MUST admit that I am not the first in the gym to jump on the treadmill.
Truth is, I have not seen the inside of a gym for years and the workings of keep fit equipment are alien to me.
Don't get me wrong, I am not against people working themselves up into a sweat and experiencing the burn in their quest to stay trim and in A1 condition.
But it's not really for me. My likings for long rests on the settee after large meals of bangers and mash have gelled together nicely to make me a very comfortable couch potato.
Not that I'm always completely easy about it, of course, especially as December makes way for January. The New Year is always a little worrying for those of a non-exercising persuasion because, it seems, nearly everyone else is enlivened by hopelessly optimistic resolutions and talking about their vision of a new, slimmer, fitter them.
And, like zealous ex-smokers, the trouble with these types is that they try to get the rest of us to jump on their bandwagon.
For many roly-polys, that in itself would be an impossibility. Simply dragging themselves onto the bandwagon would be the big challenge, and only then with external assistance such as a block and tackle.
Things tend to quieten down a lot after the first month of the year is over, with many of those seemingly resolute about their New Year resolutions slipping back into their old ways.
But right now they are being whipped up by the media which is in a frenzy, obsessed with obesity. Celebrity Fit Club - shouldn't that be Fat? - is back on TV with the resident doctor warning some of the far from A list guests that they will soon be dead if they don't do something about their weight. Strangely, they do not seem too upset about the revelation.
The press and magazines are emblazoned across the front pages with exhortations such as: "It's day one of your exercise plan."
Not mine, chum. I'll decide when that is, if ever.
Colleagues have been talking enthusiastically about programmes to exert themselves in the gym and been trying to get me involved but I have resisted.
Don't tell them this, but on the home front there has been pressure to do something about my sedentary attitude and increasingly I am being dragged, not quite screaming, out for an invigorating walk after dinner. Worryingly, it is becoming a bit of a habit.
Talking about fat men, I was aghast to learn this week what had happened before Christmas to the most famous obese gent in the world. Is nothing sacred?
Although accompanied by the mighty Corey's Mill Lions, Santa Claus had to curtail his charity collecting rounds in Stevenage on a couple of evenings because stones were being thrown at him.
What is wrong with the world? Why do kids do this sort of thing? I just hope those responsible missed out when Christmas Day arrived.