I have done it.
I have been to the gym and done one of Number One Son-In-Law’s workouts.
I did not quite attain his exacting standards, I had to do 500 metres on the rowing machine instead of 600 metres at one point, because I actually thought that I might die, but apart from that I can genuinely lay claim to having done some exercise. Real exercise, as approved of by an exercising person, the sort of activity that would make you out of breath even if you were wearing correctly-fitting underwear.
I got hot and sweaty and everything hurt.
After that I went for a swim and swam for a whole kilometre as well. This was not on his list, it was voluntary, and gave me a virtuous glow of self-satisfaction. I thought probably it would make up for not having eaten any vegetables.
I looked in the mirror afterwards to see if I could detect any embryo muscle definition, but I couldn’t, maybe tomorrow.
I am sitting in my taxi now, barely able to lift my hands to type. I am completely exhausted.
Numbers One and Two Daughters have both called me several times lately, with solicitous enquiries about the progress of my fitness campaign. I was quite touched by their concern until I discovered that they had had a bet with one another about my likely success, and were investigating their financial prospects for the near future.
I think I ought to be jolly fit already. I went for another fell walk this morning, I did try a bit of a run halfway round, but came within slippery moments of a fractured hip, and so gave up in favour of caution.
We had just about staggered out of bed this morning when the dogs rushed downstairs, barking their heads off, because Mark’s friend Ted was at the door, and I had to rush down and let him in with my toothbrush still buzzing in my mouth.
He had brought their truck up to the house for Mark because he is going away for a few days. He is going to London to do a press conference because he is famous in his spare time, and then off to Gibraltar to do some sailing. Ted has got a forty foot yacht which is anchored in the Med.
Mark says that this is because he doesn’t have to pay school fees yet, and that our day will come, probably at about the same time that Ted’s day is over. Ted has got three children, none of whom is five yet. They are exceptionally adorable children, but exhausting, and make me secretly grateful for boarding schools.
Mark drove Ted to the station, presumably so they could kiss one another goodbye and swap last minute stories about bandwidth and signals. He came back with the truck, and is in sole charge of their broadband company for the next week.
I am impressed with this. It is a jolly clever thing to be installing rural broadband by yourself. You have got to know things about switches and pings and signals, it is very complicated. Lots of people want rural broadband, they are going to be busy for ever.
I left Mark in the back garden, doing something to a switch unit, and went off with the dogs. It has become very cold indeed, and the snow has frozen. I amused myself on our walk by standing on puddles to see if they would crack, and some didn’t. This is still as much fun as it was when I was five.
When I came home Mark was gone, and I baked some biscuits and started painting pictures on the door which will eventually go on the camper van wardrobe. This was a wonderfully tranquil experience. I put Elspeth’s audio book of A Game Of Thrones on the CD player to keep me company. This is a story that I know perfectly well and hence is not at all stressful to listen to, no nasty surprises or anxious moments. I do not think I could have had a happier time.
After a while the lodger came to see me, which was also happy, except that she is feeling disgruntled with her life. This is because of a vile wicked disloyal man, whom Mark should offer to shoot, and also because she is bored with working in a Chinese restaurant where nobody else speaks English and there are no customers because it is February. She is going to go away and see her family for a few days.
I waved her off and thought that there will soon be nobody left in the Lake District.
It feels like it tonight. It is very quiet.
I am going to read my book and rest my weary limbs.
Have some pictures of this morning’s walk.
