I've just returned from a 3 mile bike ride, hoping to both lose some weight and keep fit, an absolute essential for all Morgan drivers.
You see I'm not sure who is getting bigger, Helen or me, I just know that each time we get into our little steed there seems to be less room. Possibly Valentine's Day is not the most appropriate occasion to raise the issue with her, so I will keep my thoughts to myself. At least I've learned something, in a marriage that's lasted almost half a century!
We are both trying hard to stay at peak fitness, a term that sounds cool and terrific when describing young virile things, but means something quite different when considering our ageing, wracked bodies. The 10 minutes a day we spend on our rowing machine, whilst watching breakfast television and having a nice cup of tea, while laudable, is totally negated later in the day as we endeavour to keep 'Gordons' and sundry local breweries and vineyards solvent. Public spirited it might be, but it is doing nothing for my body, ( prudency is called for here!), the silhouette of which is positively revolting as I view myself in the mirror after emerging from the shower each morning.
Not only have I rowed and cycled today, but my miserable efforts have also included chopping five bags of kindling, an increase of one over yesterday, and washing the Volvo, which incidentally seems to be using more oil than it should. Helen has spent the day baking and knitting which to my mind do not qualify in the fitness stakes!
Now, you may find it difficult to imagine, but I cut a 'remarkable' figure on my bike. No, you're wrong, Lycra does not feature in my outfit, more 1930's country yokel that's me, but with a fluorescent yellow vest and an enormous helmet in the most revolting shade of green, to fit the cranium, that my late mother wrongly assessed as containing more brains than normal. To summarise, I look a right twit!
Not only have I rowed and cycled today, but my miserable efforts have also included chopping five bags of kindling, an increase of one over yesterday, and washing the Volvo, which incidentally seems to be using more oil than it should. Helen has spent the day baking and knitting which to my mind do not qualify in the fitness stakes!
Now, you may find it difficult to imagine, but I cut a 'remarkable' figure on my bike. No, you're wrong, Lycra does not feature in my outfit, more 1930's country yokel that's me, but with a fluorescent yellow vest and an enormous helmet in the most revolting shade of green, to fit the cranium, that my late mother wrongly assessed as containing more brains than normal. To summarise, I look a right twit!
This talk of losing weight brings me to a rather important issue that is not mentioned in any of the Morgan factory's sales literature. Is there an optimum recommended size for drivers of Morgans or do we continue willy-nilly, in sublime ignorance, until the moment arrives when we get totally jammed in the cockpit and have to call the fire service to cut us out?
MMMM...think it's fair to say that it ain't Helen that's putting the weight on!
ReplyDelete