Filed under: Just funny
I’m at the gym, OK not gym leisure centre. But the intention is the same, getting myself into an uncomfortably sweaty mess in the hope of shifting a few pounds (weight not sterling, although there does seem to be an overlap).
I’m at peace with the cliche of a New Year fitness drive, that doesn’t bother me. What does bother me is my genetics, I’m not bitching about body shape I got fairly lucky tall enough that an extra burger gets stretched out enough to leave me passably healthy. No, what I’m talking about is the fact that I sweat like Nick Clegg at an NUS conference.
Again I wouldn’t mind sweating after wild exertions, but I start after a walk to the fridge. I’m not horrifically unfit either even when I was playing high level rugby and basketball five times a week. Its just not fair I tell you, I feel fine but look like I’ve just completed back to back marathons.
Anyway my squash buddy is here so I better start filling the court with saline.
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