Yesterday’s lecture was about exercise.
It was supposed to be about diet but the girl who was to give it apparently had a stomach upset. Not exactly a great testament to her culinary skills? She should mind what she eats.
Anyways, we learned all about exercise and what it does. Now I already knew that exercise is something to be avoided so the lecture made difficult listening. We learned what exercise actually does to the body and how we are doomed to exercise for the rest of our lives, or else we will drop dead.
Various suggestions were made as to what kind of exercises were suitable, such as running, walking, hill climbing, swimming and going to the gym. Frankly none of them appeals. I will run if necessary, such as catching some toe rag who has annoyed me, but running for a bus is out [I’ll wait for the next one, thanks]. Walking is something to be done out of necessity to get from A to B but only within the confines of the Manor. I have a car after all, and it’s a shame to not use it. Swimming? That’s out of the question. I could never swim and I don’t intend starting now. Gym? Fuck off!
We were told that the best kind of exercise is when we are doing something we enjoy. That is a relief as presumably lifting a pint glass can then be classified as exercise? They didn’t mention shagging which is strange as that’s supposed to be the equivalent of a three mile hike?
They did mention cycling which is about the closest I could get to exercise but only if I were going to the pub. There are two problems though – one is that Penny can’t come [unless I get an old bike with a basket on the handlebars] and the other is that I live on the side of a mountain. It’s all very well to talk about the Dutch and their keenness for two wheels but Holland is flat, whereas Wicklow is anything but. I would spend more time pushing the bike up hills than I would actually riding on the fucking thing.
So my mind is made up.
I think I’ll take up Sudoku.