Irony

For several years I deliberately avoided anything remotely connected to physical exercise, except for the occasional gentle stroll when I found myself in an interesting place. It wasn't until I returned to live in Edinburgh that I rediscovered the pleasures of a good brisk walk. Within the first few days of my arrival, I'd covered about half of the city on foot and continued to do so once I'd got settled into my flat and new neighbourhood, revisiting old haunts.

The irony is that, now that my mobility is limited and difficult, I long to be able to indulge in a few brisk walks. Exercise is no longer something to be avoided or reserved only for interesting areas. Although I've always been aware of the importance of exercise for good health, I'm painfully aware of it now that I'm trying to regain my former robust health and worry about not being able to get worthwhile exercise on a daily basis. It's not as if I'm sitting around on my fat arse 24/7 (okay - it's 23/7) because I do walk in my own limited way but, as in all things with me, it's not enough. Well now it's going to have to be enough because it's all there is for the time being.