2004-07-22 - 10:07 a.m.

So I finally buckled, much in the way that my knees were buckling under the flabby girth of my immense torso, and joined a gym. My aim is just to be able to fit back into clothes that I bought two years ago but without the aid of the respiratory equipment I would currently need, so its merely for reasons of sartorial cheapness and not really to do with health. If all my clothes were elasticated, you can bet I�d be doing better things with my time than sweating in public, that�s for damn sure as hiccups.

It�s at the municipal sports centre, so it�s low on snob value � I know lots of people like to work out near the stars, but I don�t need minor celebrities to remind me what a relative porker I am. Actually, I do, and if they�d have done their job earlier in the day, I maybe wouldn�t be in this pickle, having to spend evening doing physical jerks instead of, say, drinking heavily in bars.

When my objective is achieved, and I�ve regained to the snake-hipped slinkery of my teens, I�d really like to have my picture taken with me standing in one of the trouser legs of my old pants and grinning like an idiot and saying "I can't BELIEVE I was THAT FAT", much like those champion slimmers on TV do, and I may buy some extra large kecks for this specific purpose. Not quite the same, especially as you can't hear people speaking in photos, but still...

I can't believe that champion slimmers can't believe that they were that fat, which is what they all say (I checked). What with the the unrefutable physical evidence before them, some of which they are standing in the flappy leg of, you'd think that them being previously that fat was a pretty credible theory.

"I can't BELIEVE I was THAT FAT."

"Well, Barry, you DID go on that all-lard diet for thirteen years, and only moved off the couch that once when you had to locate that tub of chocolate cake pizza kebab ice cream that you'd dropped, so try and reign in your disbelief a LITTLE BIT, eh?"