IT'S NOT WHAT YOU DO AT THE GYMN ITS GETTING THERE THAT FxxKS YOU UP!

Through the years as i've been forging the body in the white hot furnace of my will into the steel hard fighting machine that you all know and love i've discovered its not the training thats so hard and punishing ,that can be handled and even enjoyed. The one thing that never gets easier ,infact seems to be getting harder is the getting off my arse to make an effort to go training. I just recently thought i'm going to make an effort to make life a bit more productive on a variety of levels. I am going to produce more work :Keep this bloody blog up to a semblance of some kind of regularity and even hilarity; And most ridiculous of all try going to the gymn! Well, we've got a family membership so i might as well try some of the classes and even do my own karate training inthe empty halls, brilliant i'll be a rippling muscular ball of kinetic energy before you know it. So, much to mine and 'The lovely Lynnes suprise i went to the gymn a couple of times this week. The toughest part of the whole stupid ridiculous process is the actual getting there its about 50 minutes walk there then back , thats the killer ,then i get in and before i flake out or put the kettle on i turn right around and take the dog for a walk.

But its not all in vain, i'm fit (now all together now...) "I'M FIT FER FxxK ALL!!!"

THE BIKE MIGHT BE GOOD FOR YOUR HEALTH, BUT THE TOE CLIPS WILL KILL YOU !

Being fat n' lazy is by far the most and natural human condition, but with politicians ,celebrities, supermodels,Trinny and Suzanna, etc, etc, all pushing healthy diets and slim figures and god forbid fitness at us being a lazy get is, saddly frowned upon, its not trendy and 'in', but one day it'll come back 'in', what goes aroun, comes around, oh happy days. Fitness is a horrible condition as it takes a lot of work and effort which nobody really likes having to do. You go into the leisure centres, i dont know why they call them leisure centres. I mean to me leisure is taking it easy, passing time relaxing, having a good drink, whatever, not pushing my cardiovascular and respiratory levels through the roof. Names like Fitness world, much more Hernia land or bust a gut world or gasp centre. It is a totally surreal experiance going into these places and seeing brightly, trendily attired men and women , running ,walking, stepping, pushing ,pulling, bending, thrusting, grunting, gasping, shouting and occassionally breaking down in tears. Very leisurely.

But the outdoor training, the more natural, running from A-B, or cycling. I've never enjoyed running. I played footy and rugby and was a fair old sprinter, but with an ankle injury and a loathing of jogging i dont run, but i do have a bike and was getting back into good long rides before the weather 'set in.' The roads are dangerous enough, a lot worse than i seem to remember from when 'i were a lad.' The main problem i have is with the bloody toe clips on the pedals. Without them you could mount your bike like a cowboy mounting his horse, but with the clips you have to position yourself astride the seat, put one foot in and then push off. When your moving ,you have to flip the other clip over to insert your other foot in. Sometimes,'Dead easy!', no sweat, whatsoever. But other times, your flipping the pedal time and time again, looking down at the damn pedal. Then your alerted by such give away signs like car horns ,or even truck air horns blaring at you as you've wobbled into the middle of the dual carriageway. Looking up to the the cars , not only behind you, but coming at you.

There is a road nearby where they filmed,'DEATH RACE 2000'... The drivers get points for all the pedestrians and bikeriders they can run over. I was on the pavement trying to get my clips on when i suddenly found myself crashing arse over tit throuh thorns and bushes. I crawled battered and scratched out onto the pavement trying to unravel the bike from the undergrowth, and desperatly trying to retain some dignity by looking from side to side to see if anyone had noticed, my cycling hiccup. When i finally got branches out of the spokes,and staunced my bleeding from copious cuts and scratches, etc and set off, for about 50 yards and thebike started bumping and rattling along. I'd gone and burst my 'f***'in' tyre. Just as well the bike was a lightweight frame as i had to carry it the rest of the way home. I was buggered if, i was going to take the tyre off and sit by a bowl of water trying to mend my puncture, thats for schoolboys, i took it to the shop and it was fixed in minutes, had to pay, but we've got to help the small buisnessman and keep the economy afloat and stay fit.But i'm still tempted to get rid of them toe clips.

AFTER ALL HER NON-STOP TRAINING THE LOVELY LYNNE HAS A MUSCLE.....JUST ONE !

Over the years, from time to time the Lovely Lynne has decided she has to loose some weight , just like every woman since time began. Maybe Adam n' Eve were the only people who never worried about it, and that was only because they never had glossy magazines and 'Goodmorning' with Phillip Schofield and Fern (stomach clamps) Cotton. And because of this and they were the only people in creation they didn't know what a fat person was. Maybe they got a little concerned when their fig leaves started pinching and feeling a bit tight around the sensitive areas they covered for some reason that Adam n' Eve had never been able to figure out. Maybe the human race started when the fig leaves were removed and suddenly stirrings stirred within the souls and lower down of our original couple. But the modern day Eve is convinced that they're fat and from time to time will order from the shopping channel some kind of torture device which goes under the title of excercise machine .These devices are tortourous for the male, as he has to hump the bloody thing about and put it together with the enclosed Alan keys and screws made from the softest most malleable metal that they could find. This makes it impossible to tighten screws fully without destroying the Alan key and the screw. It's not so bad for the woman ,as ,after a 'try out', they never go near it ever again. The Lovely Lynne bought a metal framework thing which was for stomach excercises. Much to the great amusement of other women, friends,family, etc who through the giggling asked me if Lynne'd started hanging her washing on it. "Of course not" i nobly replied."She will!", as they all had. I never mentioned that the washing had been dripping dry from the excercise machine for about a fortnight in the utility room.


In a moment of total madness and insanity we paid an totally insane amount of money to join, as a family(ahhh!) a local gymn. The last time i joined a gymn, was in Liverpool back street ,with rusty dumbells(and that was just the customers) ;No glass in the windows and beaten ,battered and busted punchbags (and that was just the customers). Whereas this one had machines that i ,for the life of me couldn't figure out. People walking ,peddaling, stepping whilst listening to Mp3's, or watching sub-titled coronation street on a telly ,right in front of their face . The sub-titles were there as the sound wouldn't have been heard over the Rap-type music that boomed about the gymn. Lynne, to be fair has piled in there and is powering away on the various machines. The other hiccup, for me is that all the machines have computer type thingey's to do with heart rates , types of excercises ,anaerobic, aerobic ,etc, etc,.....You need a degree in medicine or computer science to kill yourself. Whereas i joined a Karate class and had the shit beaten out of me. Lynne has trained away and is ever so proud to announce to the world that she is now the proud owner of a muscle...Just one, but it's a muscle, a right calf muscle, in fact.

...WHAT HAPPENS WHEN MERE MORTALS TRY TO WEAR THE RUGBY SHIRTS OF THE GODS!.

Apparently theres a shortage of England Rugby shirts available, as for now Rugby's the new Soccer( especially after last night.) .But the thing i can't figure is why. These scientifically designed high density material moulded 'overskins' look bloody un comfortable on the supreme athletes they were fitted for. Lets just say that most of us can't really ,in all honesty describe ourselves as 'supreme athletes'.And leave it at that. So, gawd knows what sights'll be seen around boozers all over the weekend and probably not too much longer, as the wearers will find themselves straining to breath and drink, as their ,Middle aged spreadings ,Love handles 'n' good ol' beer belly is forced up into their chest cavity ,as their heart and lungs are pushed up into their neck and head. And the brain ,oh they'll leave that in a box at home.
Bring back the loose ol' baggy cotton shirts they were comfy and covered a multitude of sins. My missus looks quite sexy in her ol'baggy rugby shirt, even if it is Welsh.