When I think about it, I actually feel quite deprived. I
only discovered the joys of the outdoors in my 40's, many
years beyond what most people would agree is my prime. My
parents took us on day trips to places I now consider prime
walking areas like the Peak District and North Wales, but we
never ventured far from the car and although we were all
quite trim and fit, it never crossed our minds to walk any
further than we needed to.
I joined the cubs for a short period, but like many of
the activities undertaken in my formative years, including
the trombone and the air cadets, the cubs lasted only a few
short weeks before I was bored and dropped out. This meant I
never went on any of the camping or hiking expeditions that
people of my age did at the time. I'm not sure I would have
appreciated them at the time either. Although many of my
friends spoke excitedly on a Monday morning in school of
walks they had enjoyed across Kinder Scout and Mam Tor the
previous weekend. I just thought "daft sods, fancy tramping
across hills all weekend when you could be enjoying
yourself".
All this inactivity, however, inevitably led to middle
age spread. My sporting activities may have included a good
deal of local league football, in which I excelled, but the
social side of the game (i.e. post match drinks and post
training drinks) more than made up for any benefit the
exercise may have been doing me. Mid-week I was to be found
playing snooker, another "sport" that was surrounded by a
healthy drinking culture. Long before the responsibilities
of a mortgage and a job enforced an early night and sober
outlook, I would be spending anything up to 16 hours at a
time in the snooker hall playing "a pint a game, best of
19".
College turned an "amateur" drinking habit into an almost
full-time professional one. I was not an alcoholic by any
means, but I don't suppose that I went more than 24 hours in
those three years at Preston Polytechnic without a drink of
some kind or another. The drinking abated significantly once
I was married, but was quickly replaced by food as Christine
carried out what she felt were her wifely duties by having
my tea on the table promptly each evening.
By the time I reached 40, I was about 25 stone and well
on the way to diabetes, coronary heart disease and all sorts
of other wonderful weigh-related illnesses. My three
children were nearly all grown, the youngest was 13, the
oldest 18 and I decided that if I ever were to see my
grandchildren I better start to do something to turn my life
around. The real catalyst for this was a photo my Mum took
at my 40th birthday party.
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