Ageing Sucks - Part 2

I used to go jogging to stay fit and keep moving. My body unionised some time ago and complained bitterly every time I did it. I’d say:

—Look, I HAVE to do this, it’s good for you!

My body?

—Bollocks, mate. Do it if YOU want. But it’s gonna hurt.

Which is frustrating. Because I’m ONLY doing it to keep my body in good working order, sort of. 

So, off I go. As many mornings as I can. And every damn morning it’s the same deal. 

My knees? Feel like door hinges that have not opened a door for years. My back? Feels like it’s made of MDF, only stiffer. My arms and shoulders? Feel like pistons that could have done with a major service, 10 years ago. My lungs? Wheeze and gasp like a rusty accordion trying to play a bagpipe tune underwater.

Now, I could understand if this is how it was when I started. But that was a while ago. And I’m still struggling. 

So, I think:

—Right, sod it, I’ll walk.

And I do that for a few days. But then? I feel everything I’ve eaten in the last couple of days forming an alliance and spreading around my middle. 

The mirror in our bedroom says:

—Alright there, Podge? You adding extra timber for padding, or what?

Then, it smirks. The BASTARD!

So, next morning? 

Off I go, on a jog. And the usual happens. 

KNEES:
Not this crap again! We told you before! That’s it, we are reporting you to the Upper Management!”

ME:
The Upper Management will be fine with it. 

MY BRAIN (The Upper Management):
Will I? Are you SURE?

BLOODY HELL.

I can’t win, can I? I exercise to keep the weight off and look after myself. My body complains. I do some walking to keep fit. Household objects start taking the piss. 

So, yeah, ageing sucks. Now, I’m going to make tea. And I’m HAVING a biscuit. Alright? I give up. 

(See you on my WALK in the morning.)