Trying to get fit has been far from plain sailing

Mrs Nurden calls it my “end-of-life crisis,” but I have taken up sport.

I hadn’t done “sport” since I was at school and I didn’t like it then.

I never found much joy in being the last boy standing against the wall waiting to be picked for the football team.

And I never appreciated the attraction of standing for hours in the sun in a field being a silly mid-on in cricket.

Pain never went down well, either.

I soon discovered a water-logged football (they were leather in those days) or a bulletlike cricket ball could do irreparable damage to my natural good looks.

But my GP unilaterally decided I needed a lifestyle change to bring down my cholesterol.

It was either that or take pills and, to be honest, that frightened me even more.

So I enrolled in a sailing course on the sun-kissed Isle of

Sheppey.

This seemed to have everything.

There would be salty sea-spray in my face, wind tanning my skin and a jaunty captain’s hat on my head.

Alas, sailing appears to have moved on.

The first hurdle was to buy a wetsuit.

It is not easy trying to squeeze into one in the confines of a Sports Direct changing room.

And the end result made me resemble the Michelin rubber tyre man.

The second hurdle was to overcome my natural fear of water.

I had obviously not thought this through and ended up spending more time below the surface than on top of it.

It was only the determined efforts of the instructors, a fleet of safety boats and Merlin, the club’s appropriately named master magician, who kept me safe.

To be fair, it was an exhilarating experience which I would recommend to anyone.

But I learned that I am not natural sailor material.

I am now looking for a safer land-locked sport. Anyone tried ice-hockey?