Many years ago I had a Peugeot 307. It looked shit hot. Unfortunately, it was only half those things. Most days it would refuse to start. I'd take it to the garage. They'd get it going. Next day, it would give up again. And again. And again.
I was reminded of my poor little Peugeot in light of recent attempts to get 'back into exercise'. The odd run here and there has not resulted in a renewed commitment. Half-hearted is a half-overstatement. Hence, I've decided to take more drastic action...
I've booked a holiday to Turkey.
I won't, however, be lying prostrate on a sun lounger, scoffing calamari and bellowing at frightened waiters. No, this time I will be getting fit.
Windsurfing. Wakeboarding. Mountain biking. It's an activities holiday and I intend to leave no activity un-activated. Furthermore, in between press-ups and star jumps, I'm going to visit the Temple of Artemis at Ephesus. She was the Greek Goddess of Hunting. I suspect her job kept her in shape so feel she is the perfect role model. Though, to clarify, I won't be hunting anything. I love animals and if I caught a fox, I'd just want to give him a cuddle. (Providing he wasn't too mangy. I feel the same about men.)
Stats: one week in Foca; sea view with balcony; forecast for storms and rain - dammit!
(Pic: Apropos of nothing, here is a pic of the beautiful holiday cottage I stayed in last weekend in Beer, Devon, and the greedy seagull who tried to steal our sausage rolls. He was unsuccessful.)