I feel like age is happening to me very quickly. By that I don’t so much mean that I have got to NEARLY THIRTY quickly, but that my body is feeling older much quicker than I expected. It is far outpacing my face, which I flatter myself could still pass for mid-twenties. I ache, I creak, and I feel terrible when I eat junk food. A whole packet of crisps makes me feel physically sick. It is time for a change.
It’s not even that I feel like I need to lose weight. I could probably stand to lose about half a stone, give or take. My weight isn’t unhealthy though, and I’m never going to be someone who slides into size eight clothing exclaiming how baggy things are nowadays, so I’m not too fussed. It is the health aspect that worries me.
People of my age DIE. Not just from accidents or attacks, but from health problems. They have heart attacks or cancer, and I am increasingly feeling that to not take best care of myself is like playing Russian Roulette with my life expectancy. I keep my car up to date and in the best possible health, so why wouldn’t I do that with my body.
All this was, of course, leading to one inevitable conclusion. I am going to have to start going to the gym. This does not fill me with joy.
Gah. The health quest begins!