Hell no, I will not go running in the snow!

by Louisa Daniels

Tone that butt! Work those abs! Shift that belly!

It’s enough to make me want to run and hide, and never look at my running shoes again.

By far (and I mean miles), the worst thing about January has got to be the way that if you’re not on a diet or running around like a headless chicken in the drizzly rain at silly o’clock then there must be something wrong.

That and the fact that everyone is skint and, no, the ‘resolution’ didn’t last.

I was walking down the street earlier today, love-handles and all, to get something for lunch, when I was almost knocked over by a herd of joggers. I’ve got nothing against joggers, I run myself, but, really? In the snow?

I don’t know, maybe I’m just a bit slow at starting off this year.

Anyway, as I said, joggers I can just about deal with.

But what really got my goat was when I noticed the complete contradiction between the magazine that I considered buying and the chocolate bar I almost picked up.

It just didn’t seem right somehow to buy either and so I left empty-handed, and feeling at odds with the world around me, hurried back to the haven of my flat.

Maybe it’s just too soon or perhaps I’m still in a festive mood. Who knows?

But one thing’s for sure: I will not be partaking in the get-fit hysteria that surrounds me.

No, I’d much rather batten-down the hatches for one more weekend, put my feet up to a film and eat some home-baked cookies.




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