Weighty Issue

Sad to say, the day has come. I've realised I'm in serious danger of becoming a fat bastard. Sat on my old bed last week, I looked down to see my belly was way, way too big.

The warning signs have been there for years. I was lucky in my early 20s to have a metabolism that burned up all the crap that made up my diet, but my body's warranty has finally expired. At 21, I might have not been able to go on all-day drinking sessions anymore but at least I could keep stuffing pizza and sweets down my gob with little worries.

Now, there's a new Sheriff in town, and he's kicking arse and taking names. Action needs to be done, and quickly, lest I end up like one of those sad cases you see wobbling around, all skinny limbs but a gut big enough to rest a tray of drinks on hanging over the belt on their jeans. It's a nightmare scenario that I must do all I can to avoid.

This means, horror of horrors, doing exercise. Yes, the dirtiest of all words. If I want to carry on my lifestyle of spending plenty of time on the sofa playing video games, I'm going to have to pay the price. That means I'm going to have to start shifting my sorry arse around by foot a lot more.

It's not like I haven't been warned. Three years ago, when I bought a car, I also picked up a couple of dumbbells, rationalising that I'd use them to make up for not travelling in a way involving my own energy. Sadly, the concept of self-discipline has never been one I've subscribed to all that much, and they've lain in the corner of the room somewhat unused for a fair old while.

But no more. They're getting a few uses a day, and I'm walking part of the way to work and back, weather permitting, as walking home through torrential rain isn't going to be doing me any favours, is it? Then, the ultimate horror, I'm going to have to start on the sit ups. Wah.

I have friends who like to go on 50 mile bike rides on a Saturday and the weirdest part to me is that they do it for "fun". Well, I'm never going to get that part: all I feel after walking any length of time is the need for a bit of a lie down. Yet needs must, much as that completely pisses me off.