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The recent cold snap in the UK has confirmed my suspicions about exercise. Snow might be disruptive and downright dangerous if not treated with respect but it does stir a sense of childish excitement within us. We want to play. When scores of grown men grab dustbin lids and hurtle with delight down icy slopes or (as witnessed in the road outside my house) attach a sheet of plastic by rope to the back of a van and enjoy a bumpy yet gleeful ride, we know there's something in it. We want fun and we want to play. In fact we're happy to put the time and thought into creating situations where we can have a ball. And that's where I think that governments, exercise advisory councils and anyone else with an interest in getting the nation fitter have got it wrong. Every year they dish out the same old advice. Treadmills, gyms and – perhaps the worst of all - home exercise DVDs. I can't imagine anything worse than leaping around my lounge every evening in the misguided belief that I will emerge in the Spring a svelter, fitter version of myself. I won't.
Let me take you on a journey. Imagine a crisp winter landscape cloaked in snow. Wrapped up warmly and pink-cheeked in the fresh, clean air all is silent except for the crunch of your footsteps and those of your companion. The scenery is stunning and you pick a particularly pretty spot to stop a while and – if this is your first foray into the great outdoors you probably take out a flask of homemade hot soup or similar. For seasoned walkers and for true satisfaction take out your tiny little stove, pan and mug. Just boiling up the milk will incite a deep feeling of contentment. It's back to an Enid Blyton childhood and an ongoing hankering for building dens. Add hot chocolate mix and mini marshmallows (yes, really – take them – they weigh nothing!) and crumble a Cadbury's flake on top. Then dare to tell me that this is not simply the best hot chocolate you've ever tasted. And the best experience you've had for a long, long time.
The thing abou! t such e xperiences is that we're eager to repeat them. We're motivated because of feelings. So when we grumble that we've no time to improve our health or can't be bothered to drag ourselves down to the gym then we need to ask what would we make time for? What could we be bothered to do?
What does it for you? |
Talking about "back to an Enid Blyton childhood," I am glad to inform you that i have published a book on Enid Blyton, titled, The Famous Five: A P{ersonal Anecdotage (www.bbotw.com).