For the first time for far too long Noi and I just got back from the gym. The Missus took to the treadmill like a good 'un and I managed a reasonable number of rounds on something with pedals. We're hoping this is the start of a new regime, such that when we book our health-checks in the middle of the year we don't have to face unduly worried looks from the various medical professionals tasked to speak the bitter truth.
Actually we should have gone for check-ups at the turn of the year, but the need to get into some kind of reasonable shape took priority. Indeed, Noi was enjoying making fun of my lack of, shall we say, definition in a photo taken with old chum Chelvam at a dinner I attended last Friday featuring various ex-colleagues, most of whom looked in pretty good fettle to me. The warning signs are all too clear and if that doesn't provide sufficient motivation to reactivate old muscles I don't know what will.
It doesn't help that folks tend to refer rather admiringly to the fact they regard me as slim, even though I know my cholesterol doesn't see it that way.
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