My new personal trainer, Mary, came over today to meet me and assess me. She quizzed me about my health, my fitness, the sort of exercise I like and don't. We ran through my past sporting activities, and I as I listed them I could scarcely believe the decline in my physical enterprises. I used to play tennis, squash, racquet ball and table tennis, even rounders a few years ago with an adult team. I went cycling, did sprinting, circuit training and weight training. Walking on fells and downs took in long distances and extremes of heights. We used to ascend peaks in the Lake District, happy to be using strength, stamina and agility. But there's no point in looking back. Mary and I are going to do boxing, table tennis when the weather is nice, and lots of building up of muscles. We're starting on Thursday. I'm very excited. God, do I need this now.
Hugo looked on with popping eyes as I was put through some paces on the stepping board. She's finally gone mad, he seemed to say. Wait till he sees me in my boxing gloves punching into Mary's defended hands.
I cracked another problem today. The boy is a reluctant drinker at the best of times, and when we've been out on long summer walks he won't touch his water no matter how thirsty he is. But I've worked out how to take my dog to water and get him to drink. I show him the milk bottle, I let him see me pour a little into his bowl of water, and the entire contents disappear in a flash. He's such a greedy little scamp he doesn't realise there's a lower substance to aqua ratio than there is in homeopathic remedies. There's a downside of course, a direct correlation between input and output. But we don't mind popping outside, especially when the weather is as nice as it was today. Another cracker.
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