This year we’ve been subjected to the longest winter in British history. This prolonged brutal weather has resulted in two things: depression and failed diets. When it’s snowing outside and you have to wrap up and up to avoid slipping into hypothermia, you tend to forget what you are covering up – your body. When no-one can see it, what’s the point in monitoring the sole comfort that gets you through these pitiful months, I speak of course of food.
March may as well have been January, a Siberian January, and when it’s raining, sleeting, hailing, snowing outside, the incentive to put on your trainers and go for a run dwindles. No, I’ll do it tomorrow you think – and then before you know it you’re in front of the woodburner attacking a 12 pack of Cadbury’s creme eggs. Not pretty.
Yesterday, however, brought with it the first real rays of sunshine England has seen since last September, weather in which a run didn’t seem like a ridiculous idea. But did I go? No. Why? Because I didn’t have any trainers.
Ah another excuse, get back in that saddle. Trainers, right. Ok bought some trainers. Now for the gym membership. It’s just across the bridge…
The problem is getting over the first hurdle, getting into the gym. For you know that on that first day you’ll realise how much fitness you have lost, and sometimes you’d rather just not know. Ignorance, they say, is bliss.
But now it is British Summer Time and though we’ve been victim to an extraordinarily poor season, Summer Body Time is just around the corner. It’s time to pull ourselves together, give the remainder of our Easter Eggs to the younger better-metabolismed generation, and get working on that four-pack.
More along the lines of: