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Paddy Courtney: I have finally made my New Year's resolution

I tried to do it on the sly, on the QT, under the radar, or any other inconspicuous way of doing something without making a lot of noise. I'm just trying to be down with the kids using that lingo. Well, how did I do, dudes? Do people still say dude?

I finally made my New Year's resolution this week. Better late than never, I tried to tell myself, only for myself to ignore me because it's been nagging me to do something about my expanding waistline and total lack of exercise for yonks now.

I must try to get on with myself better in future, I hate it when we're not talking to each other. (Note to self: stop talking to yourself and writing 'notes to self'.)

There's a gym only a stone's throw from my house. I know this because I regularly lob rocks at it, hoping it will close down and stop mocking me. I swear I can hear it calling to me as I pass by on my way to the cake shop. "Psst, hey you, yeah you, fat boy, get your lard-ass in here now." The only exercise I usually get is when I break into a slight jog just to get past its snide comments.

Lent has nothing to do with it. It wasn't because of pressure from friends or family and it wasn't because of some bet I lost. I did this for me and me alone. I went and joined that talking gym and immediately felt a weight lift off my shoulders.

So far so good, but 'shoulder weight' wasn't really my problem area; it was my spare tyre and man boobs that needed a workout.

I opted for a go on a bicycle that didn't move anywhere. Harmless enough, you'd think. In trying to adjust the seat to match my oopma-loompa legs, I caught my finger, screamed, then kicked the bike. It toppled over and knocked an old lady off hers. Everyone in the gym ran to her aid and started shouting abuse at me, ruining my plan to do this on the quiet.

pcc@herald.ie


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