Getting active has obvious health benefits, but it can also help you build a social circle and give you a new lease of life, as these people have found

MOST of us know it's good to be fit. Regular physical activity reduces your risk of heart disease, diabetes, stroke, cancer, osteoporosis and depression, not to mention a big bum or belly.

But exercising isn't just good for your body -- it can be good for your spirit, your social life, and even your chances of romance.

Meeting someone at a dance class, finding a sports mentor or gaining a companion to keep you company on training sessions are just some of the ways getting fit can exercise your heart in more ways than one.

THE MENTOR

James Swan and Padraig Murphy tussle in a painful-looking headlock. One of them is bleeding a little, but they're moving so fast around the mats of the small training area it's hard to tell who took the damage.

Padraig is one of the few people you'll meet who manages to make a brutal kick look graceful, with a barefoot flick that's part ballet dancer, part menacing machine.

The two men embrace. No, they grapple. And then, after 45 minutes of beating each other up, they grin and separate like old comrades.

"Padraig turned me from a hothead kid who loved martial arts into a serious fighter," says James (24), who has muscles to rival Shrek, although he's definitely better looking, with blue eyes and a mischievous grin.

Padraig, an understated and genuine man, refuses to be put on a pedestal. "James gives me as much as I give him," says the trainer in his soft Wexford drawl. "Not many people have his commitment -- he's never missed a training session, whether it's 6am or 10pm."

The pair met when James was 15 and on his way to winning a world tae-kwon-do championship.

"I thought I was really hot, but meeting Padraig changed that -- in a good way," he recalls. "He scared the shit out of me. He was such a renowned fighter."

James twisted his pelvis in that first bout, and had to visit a physiotherapist to repair the damage. "That's why I never forgot the lesson," he says ruefully. Until meeting Padraig, James had worked in a sports shop to pay the €60 per session demanded by his first coach.

"It was hard coming up with the money, but my dad encouraged me when I started. We lived in Ballymun then, and he thought martial arts was a healthy outlet for my energy."

James's father chose a savvy path. While his son's friends were smoking and drinking, James was focused on exercise. He is now a fitness trainer himself, and remains a non-smoker and non-drinker.

As a teenager, after a move from Ballymun to nearby Santry on Dublin's north side, James trekked across the city after school to train with Padraig for at least three hours a day, five days a week.

Padraig's tuition of the young fighter came free, as did his support, says James. "He travelled all over the country with me to fights and he'll never take money off me. He'd never know I worship him -- he's too modest."

Proud

Padraig is proud of James's success but the former national kickboxing titleholder shrugs off the title of mentor. "I get just as much out of it as I give," says the father of two.

The two men have much in common -- neither drink or smoke and both happily spend a couple of hours daily doing gruelling training.

Padraig says he's getting old -- at 37 -- and now weighs in at 72kg. During sparring sessions he's wary of his young 84kg protégé: "He's a super kicker and he moves very fast."

But James reckons Padraig is still the master. "He's gentle, but incredibly disciplined. I remember watching him, and being awed that a guy who weighed 63kg could knock the b******s out of guys over 100kg. It was unheard of."

James has never beaten Padraig but vows: "My day will come."

He's willing to wait. "Padraig is definitely my mentor, but maybe that implies the relationship will end, I hope ours never does."

THE COMPANIONS

Pearse Bolger is negotiating the winding path alongside his beloved River Boyne after being led to his favourite fishing spot by his dear friend, Fagan.

Pearse (51), an international angling champion, is proud of the 15lb salmon he has just caught.

Later, his partner Marina might cook up the catch but he won't be able to feast his eyes on the dish because Pearse is blind.

But he loves to exercise, and trudges for miles in search of salmon, pike or trout at his favourite fly-fishing spots, where he'll sit for hours whipping his line over the water time and again in a smooth, snaking arc.

He thought all that might be over when he lost most of his sight seven years ago, due to a complication from diabetes.

"I was driving and both my eyes filled up with blood, which is unusual, for both eyes to go at once," he recalls. "It was terrifying. But what was most frightening was my young daughter was in the car with me -- she was about seven at the time."

Pearse managed to pull over safely, but his sight never recovered.

Now he's grateful to a hairy male companion who allows him to keep up his beloved fishing.

Lifesaver

Fagan, a loyal labrador-retriever cross, is a lifesaver for Pearse, who received the dog through Irish Guide Dogs for the Blind.

"Fagan is a fantastic support," he says. "I have him trained to bring me to all the fishing spots -- we'll be out for hours at a time, whatever the weather."

But he admits the going can be tricky.

"My paradise is also my prison," he says of his Co Meath home in the small village of Kilmessan, with its uneven country lanes and byways.

"The river paths are uneven and hard to negotiate. But with Fagan along, we never miss a step."

As for Fagan, if he could talk, Pearse reckons he'd say he has a good life. "A lot of guide dogs have to go in to work with their owners every day on the car or train, and then sit under a desk. My fella is out in the best countryside every day."

Fagan knows 160 commands, and eats a cup of dog biscuits twice daily, following diet guidelines.

"He's made an immense difference in my life," says Pearse, who is a proud member of the Irish national angling team.

He admits becoming partially blind was a big shock, but says he's grateful for a full and happy life with his partner and his daughter, Cathríona, "the apple of my eye".

"Every day is a great day for me, and a day for living," he says. "Every day I wake up and get out of bed and do something new. Fagan helps with that."

Pearse says his daughter, now 13, often accompanies him and Fagan on their fishing jaunts.

"She adores Fagan, and she's turning into a great angler herself."

But while his beloved three-year-old companion happily trudges beside the Boyne with him, putting in many gruelling hours a week in preparation for the national angling championships next month, he can't actually cast a line.

"Fagan gets me to the location, and I do the fishing. And he never answers back."

THE dancing duo

Hundreds of people attend Hilary Clarke's salsa classes every week, but she remembers noticing Paul Hooks on his first visit.

Not only did he step on her toes a few times, but he was also polite and personable -- traits the Dublin dance teacher appreciates. "I take money at the door, so people coming into the dance classes for the first time don't know I'm the teacher. Often they'll just plonk the money down, and not say much. Paul was lovely -- polite, and he stopped and introduced himself -- and he was handsome."

It was a promising beginning for Paul (31), who says he started going to salsa lessons for "the same reasons as everyone else: to get out and meet someone. It's a lot better than getting rejected at nightclubs".

But it took a couple of months before the two started dating. It was strictly business at the salsa lessons, and they only really got chatting at the birthday party of a friend at a Dublin nightclub.

Training

"That's when we hit it off," says Paul, who is training to be a teacher. "I was a little star-struck, which sounds a bit silly, but Hilary is an elite figure in salsa, and I was overwhelmed talking to her. It was like meeting your heroine -- while we were chatting I was waiting for her to wrap it up."

He needn't have worried. They got together, and two years on they're a happy couple. Dancing still plays an important role in their relationship, despite the challenging hours that Hilary (35), originally from England, puts in as a teacher running her thriving Dublin-based Danzon Salsa company, often working late five nights a week.

"Dancing is important to me, and I'm proud Paul is now up to intermediate level but I never have time to give him private lessons," smiles the dark-haired dancing teacher.

Paul says it can be intimidating to try to lead his talented partner on the dance floor. "I've stepped on her toes at least a few times," he admits.

In return, she has the freedom to be more critical with Paul than other beginners. "You know that TV show Catchphrase -- when I do something wrong she makes the sound of the show's buzzer,'' he says ruefully.

"She'd never do that with anyone else in her classes -- she's too much of a professional."

Paul still goes to at least two salsa dance classes a week, though luckily he isn't the jealous type, and doesn't get upset watching Hilary shimmying a sensuous samba with eager male partners. "Men who get jealous easily don't go out with me in the first place," she says.

The drama and romance of salsa means dancers form a strong bond. "We've had a few weddings over the years, and a lot of close friendships," says Hilary. "Salsa's a lot of fun, and we all go out dancing together after class. It's a very intense form of exercise and there's a lot of passion on the dance floor." If the pair ever decide to tie the knot, Hilary says the rumba may well replace the wedding march.

"And the first dance will be lively too."

- Amanda Phelan