Monday, July 2, 2007
Straying from the righteous path
Although it's fashionable to blame your parents for everything from adult bed-wetting and rubber fetishes, to being locked out of the housing market and for there being no fresh mangoes at Waitrose - I am sitting here eating Indian sweets wondering if I can blame mine for the grande interruptus of my fitness journey.

I mean - how selfish of them - they locked themselves for two days in the fetid, pressurized cabin of an aircraft, enjoying the delights of the 'chicken option' meals, and an entertainment system that was down between Hong Kong and Heathrow - just so they could wreck my mojo.

They have insisted on restaurants and red wine and 'family time' (I haven't seen them for a year) rather than the deeply solitary activity that is the gym and semi-starvation.

They have reintroduced coffee into my house. Dad brought a bottle of wine home. The other day at Hampton Court Palace, they brought me a scone. They look me to an Italian restaurant on Saturday evening and discussed pizza in an unhysterical manner.

Yet I cannot resist their wicked ways because they are my parents, and as we all know if you go against your parents you get whacked on the backside with either:

a) a wooden spoon
b) a Mason Pearson hairbrush
c) a rolled up newspaper

I guess what I am trying to say is, that after the masochism of the detox, I have now slipped back into my bad old ways - but IT IS NOT MY FAULT. IT IS THEIRS.

Fortunately, my parents are not slipper-wearing, sherry imbibing, wizened OAPs on Zimmer frames. In fact they are probably fitter than I am. So this week when we go walking in the Lake District it could be a chance to regain some fitness ground lost in the past week.

But I'll let you know if they try to drag me from the path of righteousness.

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Welcome to the diary of a reluctant exerciser. Having previously shunned fitness regimes in favour of bacon sandwiches, Brigid Delaney vows to finally shape up, get fit and eat more healthily. Over the next three months read how she gets on in a brave new world of gyms, exercise classes and no bacon sandwiches.
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