Now. We live at the foot of a very steep hill. It’s a hill so steep that, while many march up it with great displays both of vigour and intent (not to mention self-congratulation) on New Year’s Day, it would seem that the overwhelming majority are content to confine this exercise to an annual penance for yuletide gluttony.
Working from home as I do – my behind glued generally to a chair strategically positioned in front of several computer screens, the only break from this immobility being (admittedly frequent) trips to the kettle – my relationship with said hill is more familiar. Friendly, no, but familiar, yes. After all, how else will I keep the muscle wastage and the ocular decline at bay? Continue reading