I’ve always been pretty disciplined with my fitness and I try to do some fairly strenuous exercise most days but I’ve fallen foul of a personal misconception that moving to the mountains would automatically result in a lean mean fitness machine.
I enjoy exercising, I like feeling fit and I like being ready for action if a boarding or biking opportunity presents itself. I do like my food and drink though. In fact, part of the reason I like to exercise so much is so that I can eat more.
The run up to this life change threw a large spanner in the works and Nina and I just didn’t have the time to fit any training in. We reasoned that with all the fixing, moving and rushing about, we were probably getting plenty of exercise anyway and there was light at the end of the tunnel after all… We’d be living in the mountains, surrounded by opportunities to be active. I’d be out everyday, snowboarding, biking and hiking. On my own, with Nina, with the kids and with friends.
Then came the cheese… And the bread… And the sausage… And the butter… And the beer! Wine’s probably less fattening but weirdly, since arriving in wine’s spiritual home, I’ve not been in the mood.
Also, it turns out, snowboarding isn’t as strenuous as I had previously thought. It is when you are frantically cramming a year’s fix of snow into a week’s holiday. It is when you’re camped out, waiting for the first lift to open in the morning before being chased off the mountain by the ski patrollers at the end of the day. Then you’re so beat, that 3 beers later, your eyes are rolling and your head’s lolling forward into a half eaten fondue. It is when you pushed it so hard that you have to crawl out of bed in the morning like a ninety year old only to stuff a chocolate croissant down your neck and do it all over again. “Got to make the most of it!”
It would appear that cruising around for an hour or two a day doesn’t burn that many calories and my dream of becoming a perma-tanned, weather beaten, lean, chiselled mountain man seems to be disappearing under a wobbly layer of brie.
Summer’s coming though. Panic! To top it off, the Speedos that I’ll have to wear in the outdoor swimming pool will only make matters worse. It’s time to get a grip son, shed a few pounds, stop troughing so much damn cheese and get in shape before those bike trails (and BBQs!) open!
I’ll just finish this last bit of cheese that’s in the fridge though… Just to remove the temptation of course…
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