All workout and no play

Personal Trainer Awareness Day? That’s an easy one, I’m already very aware of personal trainers, I wear them all the time. Wait… what’s that? A personal trainer as in someone who forces you to do physical activity? Aww man, that’s totally out of order!

Clearly the inventors of this day don’t realise I’m a writer, thereby belonging to the laziest sector of the expressive arts. Dancers run and jump all over the place, actors flail around and gesticulate like nobody’s business, musicians can get buff just through showboating on stage, and even artists usually stay on their feet for hours on end and move one of their arms in majestic swoops. Writers just further strengthen their favourite chair’s bum groove and wiggle their fingertips, usually with a cuppa or something stronger within easy reach. (Apologies to any physically active writers out there, I mean no offence, I’m simply having a moment of self-analysis, which I try to do as rarely as possible because I find it quite exhausting and need to have a nap.)

Nevertheless, not wanting this blog to collapse so early in the proceedings simply due to my narcoleptic-like energy levels, I found a fitness test on the Men’s Health website. Now, for future posts I’ll try to give full activity details that will hopefully prove both informative and entertaining, but I’m going to spare myself the humiliation in this instance. Let’s just say that my scores were consistent throughout the six tests… in that they all came out as ‘poor’. (Thankfully there wasn’t a ‘clinically dead’ ranking.) And then the website had the audacity to try and sell me some copies of its magazine, which I sweatily declined.

I’d love to say that’s that, but now as I sit at my computer wiggling my fingertips I feel that I really do need to get in shape. Or at least a different shape, one that’s less reminiscent of a misshapen beanbag. I guess Personal Trainer Awareness Day has done its job; I can’t afford a personal trainer and to be honest I’d rather not have someone shouting at me as I swiftly turn the colour of an angry boil, but I’ve promised myself that I’ll exercise more as a slightly late New Year’s resolution. Let’s just hope that it lasts beyond Ditch New Year’s Resolutions Day of January 17th!

Right, I’d best get going as I need to call the doctor about this repetitive strain injury I’ve recently developed. Biscuit dunking can be strenuous work.