So I went for a jog at lunchtime. No, that’s not true. I meant to go for a jog at lunchtime. I made it out my gate.
I stretched, stood around for five minutes, then came back into the house and resumed position on the couch.
How do I explain this behaviour? I can’t. I tried, I really did. I dressed like Sports Billy. I did the necessary stretchings, all the obligatory warm-ups and cool-looking stuff you think sporty people should be doing.
But I didn’t jog. I couldn’t bring myself to do it. This is the perfect time to get fit, as I’ve gained a little girth over the Hols, and I’m on leave for the month so really have nothing else to do.
Wait, I know. I’ll try again now. It’s cooler now. There’s a nice moist breeze. Could even be rain later. Wait, did I say rain?
Who wants to get rained on? Not me. Let me see.
I’ll decide in an hour.