The Final Say.
Republican nominee and everyone’s favourite philanderer, Newt Gingrich, recently proposed that, if elected, he intends to “arm space with lasers”. Now that, my friends, is what I call a real new year’s resolution. Forget losing those nightmare love handles or finally stroking a giraffe (apparently more common a desire than you would think), 2012 is apparently the year for thinking big. Galactically big.
Whilst I cannot advocate following the example of a man who thinks volleyball is an appropriate analogy for freedom, and believes America’s greatest threat are the “homosexual fascists”, it certainly seems he is not alone in his ambition. I mean, you just have to look at the facts. Croydon recently launched a bid to become a city in its own right (God forbid). Liam Neeson is converting to Islam. And I have joined the gym.
I will concede it is hardly the most revelatory of resolutions. Indeed, to those insufferable people who do things like play squash on Sunday mornings before a casual 15km power walk across the Yorkshire moors, this may seem like an innocuous and frankly necessary move. But to me, it is the equivalent of building an entire galactic missile system, by hand, out of Morrisons value tin foil. After all, I am the person who feigned a sprained ankle for 14 years in order to get out of P.E., and who was banned from playing tennis at school after a miss-aimed ball led my teacher to term me a ‘hazard’ to my fellow students. Yes, the relationship between me and exercise has always been turbulent (think Sonny and Cher in their twilight years), but as Dylan so wisely said, the times they are a’changing. After all, if Adrian Chiles can hold the world record for the greatest number of kisses received in 60 seconds (78- true fact), I sure as hell can do ten minutes on the cross trainer.
Yet whilst there were certain things I promised myself not even my new-found athletic enthusiasm could ever entice me to do (wear Lycra, buy Ryan Giggs’ new fitness DVD), I found myself having something of an existential crisis last week. Whilst walking past the gym reception, I casually picked up an exercise class timetable. Harmless enough you might think, but the rush of excitement I got from the prospect of Aerobics classes on Wednesday evenings was unfathomable. Since when have I become a person who’s heart is sent racing at the prospect of a workout with York’s bulging middle-aged? I can scarcely recognise myself.
Adrian Chiles Carol Thatcher - News
Viewers of ITV's Daybreak are used to surprises after the swift departures of Christine Bleakley and Adrian Chiles. But they were still surprised to see presenter Kate Garraway sporting a tattoo on her leg as she perched on the studio sofa.
After all, if Adrian Chiles can hold the world record for the greatest number of kisses received in 60 seconds (78- true fact), I sure as hell can do ten minutes on the cross trainer. Yet whilst there were certain things I promised myself not even my