Life begins at 40! Well so they say; whoever “they” are. But I realised, not long after my 40th, that this magnificent body that I had had been given, could fall into disrepair.
Now I wasn’t one for too much exercise. Not unless you count shovelling food and drink into my gob as I watched sweaty sports people on TV, as a form of exercise.
So there was nothing else for it but to join a gym, do a bit of restoration on the body, and hope it held out until I’d completed all my life’s objectives.
Mind you, with all the things I wanted to do, I’d need to live till about 250, and a few push ups wasn’t going to achieve that.
I also had an added incentive just after the 40th birthday to do some work on the physique. I suddenly found myself divorced. Okay, so it wasn’t all that sudden, but I realised that in order to market myself in the competitive “find a new girlfriend market” I needed to make a few changes.
But I didn’t want to make the whole gym thing a chore. Three times a week was enough for me. And I spent much of my time in the gym – socialising. Okay, so that means chatting to girls, and why not?
Yes I did take exercise. Yes I did get sweaty. Yes I did lift heavy things.
And all in all, I was glad I did; it stood me in good stead (and still does). I reckoned that as I got older, things might just come along to attack my “temple”. (Have you ever heard certain people say – ‘My body is a temple.’ Any temple I’ve ever seen is usually crumbling and falling to bits)
Anyway, there was no way I wanted to be fat or out of condition, because that would make it easy for any temple attackers to pull me down.
And a few years ago an attacker struck! A “bad boy” appeared in my large intestine and it had to come out tout de suite! The night before the op, I did a fitness class (Body Attack if I remember correctly). And three days later I was home, minus 10 inches of large intestine, and some lymph glands, whatever those are.
All my friends, including the surgeon who stole my intestine, were very surprised that I recovered so quickly. Okay, so it was about six months before I went back to the gym. But being relatively fit made my recovery so much easier.
I’m not a fitness bore who claims to be super fit or drones on about exercise. But I do believe in “everything in moderation” and that includes exercise.
That’s why I was interested in this article – hope you find it interesting also.
Let me know your thoughts