I’m not a big believer in New Year’s Resolutions, despite the fact that I tend to make one each year.  The problem is that they don’t constitute what I consider to be a legally binding agreement and, as such, they have normally lapsed and been forgotten long before I have stopped writing the date of the previous year on the top of my cheques.  Nevertheless, I continue with the tradition, and this year’s New Year’s Resolution to forget is to get fit.

I have written before about some of my efforts to regain the fighting weight of my youth (check out The Gym Paradox and The Home Exercise Dilemma if you don’t believe me).  I am conscious that a recurring theme runs through these posts: a disinclination to physical exertion.  I am looking to exercise without actually breaking sweat.  After all, it’s not as though I want to actually lose any weight; more to subtly redistribute the weight I already have to better advantage.  Now, I consider myself a man of few grand indulgences; I just need an exercise regime to counteract the calorific effect of a modest one pint of beer a day.  Something that will burn off an excess 200 calories.  Now, admittedly this could be most easily achieved by ditching the pint of beer in the first place but, realistically, that is never gonna happen.  It is perhaps significant that Dry January has never once featured on my list of New Year’s Resolutions, lapsed, forgotten, or otherwise.

200 calories.  It is not a lot to shed.  Something I can do while I am working, surely?

The building where I work is five storeys high and, unimaginatively, to all intent and purpose a cube, built around a central void.  Each side of this cube is exactly 50 paces long.  I know; I’ve paced them.  Repeatedly.  This is my office workout regime.  Five floors; 50 paces a side per floor; 1000 paces in total, excluding staircases; a distance of approximately half-a-mile in imperial measurements.

Half-a-mile of concentrated walking.  How many calories does that burn up?  Well, entering my weight into a calorie-calculator, I get a figure back of 40 calories.  What does this mean?  Either I have to limit myself to one fifth of a pint of beer a day, or I have to do the office workout regime five times in quick succession.  Four sides of five storeys, five times over.

I think I may just go back to nervous fidgeting.

© Simon Turner-Tree

Simon Turner-Tree exercises where others only prevaricate.