Yesterday I played football at lunchtime at work. I normally play every week but having had a couple of weeks off and a bit of time working from home yesterday was the first time I had played for 4 weeks. It’s bad enough that my legs ached yesterday but today I can feel muscles that haven’t been used since I was 21 and, to be frank, my legs are as stiff as a pimp’s penis. That and a burgeoning beer gut mean I have to start some sort of exercise regime other that playing footy every 4 weeks. Does anyone have any suggestions for a top way of regaining fitness? You should know first of all that there are a few suggestions that are already out of the question, those being:
1. The Gym
Sorry but I tried this and didn’t like it. Frankly who wants to spend half a months salary to spend their evenings in a neon lit room filled with hideously sprung instruments of torture, steroid addicted muscle marys, silent tellies, booming Euro Trance and, if you’re really unlucky, Dwayne. Plus I have an aversion to lycra and I don’t mean wearing it, I mean seeing people in it. No, you may keep the gym.
2. Running / Jogging
Again out. Firstly running on pavement is terrible for my already dodgy knees so it would have to be Hove Lawns. This brings up the problem, in winter, of dress sense and having to wear warm enough to get to the lawns but cool enough to run in. Frankly this is going to involve some sort of hat and tracksuit combination and I have no desire to look like a 16 year old burglar. There is also the auto-direction issue. I rarely leave the house in my leisure hours unless sustenance is involved. There’s every possibility that I could leave with the intention of going for a run but my brain could set to auto-pilot and I would return 20 minutes later clutching a chicken madras, 4 pack of Guinness and a pack of pork scratchings. That’s not going to help.
3. Aerobics.
Just because of Mad Lizzy.
Am I doomed to be a fat bastard?
1. The Gym
Sorry but I tried this and didn’t like it. Frankly who wants to spend half a months salary to spend their evenings in a neon lit room filled with hideously sprung instruments of torture, steroid addicted muscle marys, silent tellies, booming Euro Trance and, if you’re really unlucky, Dwayne. Plus I have an aversion to lycra and I don’t mean wearing it, I mean seeing people in it. No, you may keep the gym.
2. Running / Jogging
Again out. Firstly running on pavement is terrible for my already dodgy knees so it would have to be Hove Lawns. This brings up the problem, in winter, of dress sense and having to wear warm enough to get to the lawns but cool enough to run in. Frankly this is going to involve some sort of hat and tracksuit combination and I have no desire to look like a 16 year old burglar. There is also the auto-direction issue. I rarely leave the house in my leisure hours unless sustenance is involved. There’s every possibility that I could leave with the intention of going for a run but my brain could set to auto-pilot and I would return 20 minutes later clutching a chicken madras, 4 pack of Guinness and a pack of pork scratchings. That’s not going to help.
3. Aerobics.
Just because of Mad Lizzy.
Am I doomed to be a fat bastard?