I am really impressed by this new fetish for fitness among people of all ages. Every morning when I go to fetch the milk, I come across men in their fifties walking briskly or women even older running or at least trying to do so.
There are young girls, some who stressed more on the butter than beans, and young men with bellies huffing and puffing and still trying to get there. There are others with hourglass figures, pure athletes, running smoothly and evoking envy all around.
Now any man with even an ounce of conscience would get ready for some introspection after seeing such a spectacle early morning.
I must admit that I did not even have an ounce of remorse as far this exercise things went.
At the outset, I must say that I am diabetic, suffer from high blood pressure and sinus and am minus a gall bladder. Isn’t that enough reason NOT to exercise? Let me confess that the doctors had actually told me to do brisk walks for at least an average 45 minutes daily.
They said exercise and live longer, walk and don’t just leave it at talk.
Now I do want to live a bit longer because I was looking forward to the World Cup football in Qatar in 2022 and was waiting anxiously for the 11th part of Fast and Furious.
Being a bit brand conscious and an old show-off I went to Nike, my favourite brand, and bought the exercise gear. It set me back quite a bit but was worth it.
So here I was, resplendent in black Nike shorts, a white Nike T-shirt and a white pair of shoes, from Nike of course.
But I thought it would be better to do that walk late at night as not many people would be around and the bulge around the middle would not be mocked upon by nasty kids with sniggering looks. These innocent brats always speak the truth and they are very direct with it. I certainly did not want to be called pregnant uncle or fat pig or any such lurid names.
At the safe time of around 11pm when the industrious gents, the hardworking ladies would enter dreamland and the nasty little ones knocked out, I began this great pilgrimage towards Fitness and Health.
After about 1km, I felt my lungs in my throat, every leg muscle taut and tired. Then I remembered a good friend of mine telling me that don’t overdo on the first few days. So I took his advice, went back home with the smug satisfaction that I had exercised. And I slept within minutes instead of staying awake deep into the night.
Then the next day, the torture started. Every muscle ached. I could barely walk with the stiffness in the leg. The arms would not stretch out very well. I felt 98 as I crawled about the house for the morning chores.
It was too much. That was it. Exercise was not for me. I do not want to be Arnold Schwarzenegger. Am happy being a paunchy, podgy person.
Then just the other day, I overheard a lovely creature saying loudly that men look so gross when they have huge paunches. Oh well. Should I? I mean get back on the road to fitness. Well, she was beautiful and so single. Who knows what can transpire?
I tossed a coin to free myself from the horns of dilemma.
So here I am in a lonely house, the only exercise being lifting the remote to switch on the telly and reaching for the lighter to draw on another cigarette.
As Rudyard Kipling mentioned in one of his pensive moments – A woman is only a woman but a good cigar…..”
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