I am a carcuss of unfitness.
An hours cycle this afternoon, followed by 20 minutes of football in the street with the kids next door, and I am an absolute wreck.
How did I get so unfit?
Could it be that just over four years ago when I got my first job sitting behind a desk, that my belly was destined to expand and my lungs sentenced to a wheesy cough every time I exert myself?
Getting fit is like pushing a large heavy ball up a very steep hill. The higher up you get, the hill starts to plateau until eventually you can run along, pushing the ball and you don’t seem use any effort at all. But it just seems like as I’ve gotten older, the initial steep climb back to a reasonable level of fitness is becoming longer and longer.
So I guess I have a choice – get myself back in shape while it’s still within the realms of possibility. Or let my family genes fondness for heart disease take me out at some point in the future.
Laying the cards down like that, it doesn’t look like a choice!
Stand aside, Fliss – it’s my turn on the ass-master! :o)
