Cards, Carrots and a Glass of Water on the Table

Day 8, Thursday January 8, 11.30am - It's time to lay my cards down on the table. Well, my trump card anyway. As head sloth I feel that, with less than 51 weeks of 2009 to go, I should lead the way by going public.

Thus my main resolution for 2009 will be to... to... to...

Actually, this is rather more difficult than I thought. I'm with Big Frank on this (see comment, January 7). You think of one thing and it leads to another. It proliferates catholically. One minute you're thinking about spending more time with your family and the next you're musing over the very nature of human happiness. My nephew Towering Andrew made the point to me in a recent email that simplicity is the key to a good resolution. I find myself caught in a multi-facted, self-perpetuating chain reaction.

The initial idea seemed simple enough. My main resolution for 2009 will be to return to my 1989 weight. There you have it. Short and to the point. I was trundling my way through the odd mini-triathlon at the time and somehow got down to 11st 7lbs. I was at my fittest. I am now 13st 4lbs - well, I was yesterday (I seem to range from anything to 13st-13st 10lb) - and at my fattest.

The trouble began, however, when I gave myself time to reflect. How did I intend to achieve this weight loss? And, more unsettlingly, why bother with such a New-Year-resolution-cliche in the first place?

My method, I decided, should involve the gym (10 minutes yomp away), more walking about town, and proper eating and drinking. That led to a visit to see one of the gym trainers last week, which in turn spawned sub-resolution (i) - three 45-minute visits to the gym a week, plus two 30-minute home strecthing sessions, (ii) walk to school and back each day (2.4 miles for Seven-Year-Old-She-Devil, 4.8 miles for me) (iii) walk to the shops (0.6 miles away) (iv) buy a book on nutrition and learn what I should be eating and why.

You see what I mean about proliferation?

The book's now arrived, incidentally, leading to (v) drink water whenever I feel tempted by the sweet cupboard (vi) breakfast like a king, lunch like a queen, dinner like a pauper (vii) cut down (cut out altogether?) on alcohol, confectionery, ice cream and pastry.

And what about my motives?

I'm not really sure I can answer that. I had my mid-life crisis at 40 but I'm pretty sure that ended last year (see "Hacked Off" on Amazon - apologies about the plug). I may be turning 50 this year, grey, grizzled and grandad-ish, but I'm not much concerned about that.

I've been happily podgy for a fair while now, with apparently no great psychological need to own a one-pack, much less a six. I have no great aspiration to live until I'm 100 (with my pension, you wouldn't either). So why get off the sofa at all?

Perhaps I want to try and find out whether I'd feel better being someone else. Or rather, whether I'd get on better being who I once was.

Tony Lawrence Mark I was fit, sporty, driven, competitive - and ridiculously young, of course. At least, that's how I remember him, my rose-tinted spectacles may be playing a trick. Tony Lawrence Mark II I've already told you about - a satisfied sofa-bound snacker.

Perhaps I've just watched too many self-improvement television programmes (while, of course, cramming down the odd packet of crisps or three, washed down by two cans of lager).

It's recently occured to me that there are two diametrically-opposed industries after our money - the gym-organic-food-sports-drinks-purified-water brigade, and the snacks-booze--tobacco-be-satisfied-with-who-you-are bunch. And they seem to get more than their fair share of air time.

So perhaps that is my main resolution - to discover who's telling me the truth, those arguing that physical health and fitness and longevity equal happiness, or those that maintain the key is self-knowledge and psychological and emotional contentment.

This, surely is the nub. Will I, by getting fitter and eating well, feel so very much better, from the minute I wake to the minute I slumber, that I will gladly give up morning profiteroles and early-evening Merlot for good? People always tell me that diet and excercise are fundamental to well-being. But they often seem to be smoking or eating chocolate cake as they say it. I mean, if it's really true, why do nurses always smoke. And why are the pubs always full?

So that's my main resolution. It's not easily measurable, I suppose, but the weight loss will be. Here goes.

Heck. Too much serious thinking for one morning. Time for a raw carrot and a glass of water.