I was asked last week by the Denbighshire Free Press to answer a set of questions for publication in their “It’s My Life” column. They were mostly quite fun to answer – what was my favourite food, what would I do if I won the lottery, and so on.
One of them stumped me, however; they wanted to know what I did for exercise and, to be honest, I couldn’t think of any meaningful exercise I do take. I walk to and from the House of Commons, of course – a round trip of over two miles – and must walk at least another mile around the endless corridors of the House every day. That lot would total about 5,000 to 6,000 steps, but I once read that you should try to walk 10,000 steps a day, and I certainly don’t do that.
Several of my colleagues are fitness fanatics, the most notable being Desmond Swayne, MP for New Forest West, who swims in the Serpentine every day before breakfast and thinks nothing of cycling thirty or forty miles. I certainly couldn’t aspire to his superhuman asceticism.
I suppose I really ought to join a gym, but, frankly fear that I would soon lose interest in pedalling furiously for half an hour, only to find myself precisely where I started.
Perhaps I should start to take a detour through St James’s Park on my way in to work, in an attempt to build up my tally of steps. We shall see.
One of them stumped me, however; they wanted to know what I did for exercise and, to be honest, I couldn’t think of any meaningful exercise I do take. I walk to and from the House of Commons, of course – a round trip of over two miles – and must walk at least another mile around the endless corridors of the House every day. That lot would total about 5,000 to 6,000 steps, but I once read that you should try to walk 10,000 steps a day, and I certainly don’t do that.
Several of my colleagues are fitness fanatics, the most notable being Desmond Swayne, MP for New Forest West, who swims in the Serpentine every day before breakfast and thinks nothing of cycling thirty or forty miles. I certainly couldn’t aspire to his superhuman asceticism.
I suppose I really ought to join a gym, but, frankly fear that I would soon lose interest in pedalling furiously for half an hour, only to find myself precisely where I started.
Perhaps I should start to take a detour through St James’s Park on my way in to work, in an attempt to build up my tally of steps. We shall see.
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