KEY POINTS:
Healthy body, healthy mind is not an adage I have ever subscribed to. Chiefly because the word "healthy" in this context translates into "fit" and fitness is something else I have never subscribed to.
Being fit requires discipline and commitment and, above all, movement. In general, I am not a huge fan of movement, unless it is towards a bar, or a mirror.
I have been known to move at great speed, usually towards buses and away from bores, but in general it is the condition of a well-fed python, supine on a sunny rock that I most aspire to.
As someone who does not enjoy doing much with my own body, besides ensuring it is well-dressed, well-fed and (too) well-watered, I find it hard to understand the motivation of others who enjoy testing their bodies by subjecting them to all sorts of cruel and unusual punishments under the banner of exercise.
I am mystified by exercise, much as I am mystified by the playing of sport. I see no point in sport, as regular readers of this column have probably deduced by now.
It is not just that I don't enjoy it, I simply don't understand it. Liking sport ranks alongside wife-swapping and fondue as one of those tastes in life I am reasonably confident I will never acquire.
And so it is with great surprise that I find myself the possessor of an exercise regime. I should rephrase that: I do not possess it - in the manner of all regimes, it possesses me.
Several weeks ago, in a most uncharacteristic fit of zeal, I decided to sign up to a fitness programme.
And not just any old programme either, but a fitness boot camp if you don't mind. Not for me the relatively straightforward option of joining a gym, or taking a walk even.
For reasons unknown, I have voluntarily subscribed to four weeks of having all manner of indignity visited upon my person three times a week from the ungodly hour of 6.30am.
This is a charitable endeavour admittedly, for the City Mission, if not for me. Charity begins at home is another adage I do not subscribe to, evidently.
I will not presume upon your patience by detailing all of the myriad humiliations and privations heaped upon me during the introductory meeting the other night. The biggest outrage will suffice. I presented myself as requested for my induction, still raw with the humiliation of having to wear trainers down Ponsonby Rd.
The induction would consist of a fitness test, I had been told. Fancifully I had imagined some sort of treadmill carry-on, with high-tech machinery to take my pulse. Perhaps some other forms of measuring, a weighing scales even.
I actually thought I was going to faint with horror when we were herded en masse to a start line and told to get ready for a 2.5km run.
Which is nothing to how I felt once the thing actually got off the ground. The first 30 seconds were divine, euphoric even. I was weightless, unfettered, free as a bird. Five hundred metres later and I thought my heart would explode.
Around me surged my fellows, running easily, happily even, not a bother on them. What is wrong with people, I wondered. What is wrong with me? That was halfway through the first lap.
The rest of the race is a blur of pain and fear and confusion. At one stage I was dimly aware of a small man yelling "challenge yourself !" in my ear. Thinking it was God, I ran towards the light, which turned out to be a truck full of more small men, all yelling similarly horrible exhortations.
At one point I actually believed I was going to die. The thought of breathing my last in some squalid corner of the Tank Farm was not to be borne however, and somehow, some way, I finished the damn thing.
The jubilation of knocking the bastard off was somewhat tempered by the shame of being the last in my team to limp home, but both emotions were completely overshadowed by my pressing need to lie on the grassy verge and expire.
It doesn't get worse than this, they told me. Yeah, right. But I am young, and have little regard for my life and well-being, so I will present myself on Monday morning for whatever awaits.
I am not expecting mercy. If there are horoscopes in this space come next week, you'll know the reason.
