This month, once again, bravely, I have ventured forth into the world of fitness. This means joining a gym and then, of course, attending it regularly, which is the slightly more difficult part.
I say again because, like all of us in the middle class, I have had episodes of “wanting” to be fit and “doing” something about it. This happens usually at the spur of some deluded moment, when one imagines that being fit and looking fit makes life in some way different (of course it doesn’t).
And I say bravely because the dozens of failures of decades past