Nigella Lawson said that, to her, vegetarianism is like exercise – it’s all right as long as someone else is doing it. I’m with her of course. The weird thing is that we all know it makes us feel better about ourselves, allows us to be sanctimonious in front of others and isn’t even that bad while we’re doing it and yet… It’s the getting started that’s the problem.
My favourite kind of joggers are those who have clearly just rescued their traccy bottoms from the bottom of their wardrobes. I walk quite quickly and I find it a confusing experience as I wander past them. I take a small kind of joy from the situation – I can’t help it, please try not to judge me. But what is the etiquette in this situation? Should I be changing my route, slowing my pace or should I pat them on the back as I pass? I can’t be sure. Perhaps you could write in with advice? I’ll try not to judge you.
I worry about it as well. Douglas Adams died while riding an exercise bike. I mean clearly exercise isn’t very good for your heart. And what if I get addicted to exercise? I have an addictive personality. I have as much fear of being unable to kick the habit as I do about kicking the bucket.
In the end it’s going to have to happen. Inches can already be pinched, pounds have already been piled and people on the internet have already written to me to point out my man boobs. But in a way all of this makes me even less likely to do it. My least favourite thing is being told.
Convincing myself that I’m doing it for me rather than what other people think is probably the most crucial step. But it’s a hard one.