I’ve learnt not to set any unrealistic goals

Idon’t know about you, but I haven’t even started my new year’s resolution, yet let alone given up. Over the years I have learned not to set unrealistic goals. A series of management courses and previous failed attempts have proved that it is the simple things in life which bear the best fruit. This year I settled for the general “get fit” mantra. I’m not looking to shed lots of weight, although that would be nice. And I’m not planning to develop the body of Adonis, although, again, it would do no harm. But I have decided that a little more exercise and spending more time saying ‘no’ to cream buns is called for. I have started gently as all the best instructions on Facebook suggest. Sometimes I get up a little earlier and do a workout on the lounge floor. I say ‘workout’ but it is really a collection of jumps, stretches, some token pressups and a lot of noise. Mrs Nurden caught me at it the other morning. She was in deep distress because she thought I was having a heart attack. When she learned the truth she gave me one of those withering looks that only wives can give. It sort of asks ‘what do you think you are doing?’ but comes with its own built-in reply which strongly suggests the experiment should end there. However, I like to think I am made of sterner stuff. In fact, sometimes I can be very stern. So I am persevering. I am determined to take up rowing again (that’s in boats, not arguing with Mrs Nurden) and I have put my name down for badminton (the game with shuttlecocks, not the horse trials). I quite like badminton. If played correctly you can stand in one place and smash the feathered bullet

‘The last time I attempted to jog around the block I collapsed in a heap in our neighbour’s hedge. She came out of her door with a broom believing she was under attack from burglars’

into the body of opponents with a satisfying yelp of surprise from across the net. I will not be attempting running. The whole concept seems alien to my body. The last time I tried to jog around the block I collapsed in a heap in our neighbour’s hedge. She came out of her door with a broom believing she was under attack from burglars. I am also glad to report that neither Mrs Nurden nor the Creatures of the Night deemed it fit or proper to present me with one of those electronic fitness bracelets for Christmas. It is just as well. They really are the most annoying things ever invented. One of our team is now wearing the ‘fatbot’ in a bid to shed a few pounds added during the recent festivities. It is amusing to see him twitch during the course of the day as the strap nudges him into action. A slight vibration is all he needs to suddenly get up from his seat, stretch and disappear outside to take a few essential steps in his relentless fitness regime. We are running a sweepstake to see which will crumble first, his resolve or the machine’s batteries...