As Arnold Rimmer once put it, "When you’re young you can eat what you like, drink what you like and still fit into your 26 inch waist trousers…Then you reach that age… your muscles give up, they wave a little white flag – and without any warning at all you are suddenly a fat bastard."

I’ve never been particularly toned and healthy (and my waist is certainly more than twenty six inches), but recently I realised I stood at a cross roads.  My waistline has grown eager to expand.  I had a choice: I could either start exercising and eating better; or I could prepare to spend the rest of my life as a fat person, cultivating a jolly personality in the hope people don’t notice my appearance.

As a consequence, I’ve been running for the last couple of weeks.  To my surprise I enjoy it.  After a run I feel more awake, more alert.  I loathed exercise at school, so much so I was put off for years.  Now I wonder how come I hated it so much.  I may start liking it less when the weather grows wet and cold, but for now I’m in love with my new hobby.

I’ve even signed up for a 5K run in a month’s time, Brighton’s Santa Dash.  How could I resist the opporuntity to run with a hoarde of people dressed as Santa?

Tom (who’s joining me on the Santa Dash) recently pointed out an advantage of an unhealthy youth.  Most men hit their physical peak in their early twenties.  With a little work, I have my physical peak ahead of me.

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