Well done M. I usually moan at her for wasting time entering competitions (“It’s just a marketing scam”), but occasionally I’m glad she ignores my advice. She’s managed to nab a 2-night stay in a suite at Ragdale Hall, a ‘health hydro’ in Leicestershire. Melton Mowbray in fact, so if the weight of healthy living becomes too burdensome, I can escape to the local town and seek solace in one of their famous pork pies.
We go today. As well as a raft of ominous-sounding treatments, I’ve booked a range of fitness activities that I hope will re-ignite my flickering commitment to core exercise. As mentioned previously, a floppy, bulbous core is one of my long list of athletic weaknesses, and like a damaged parcel of freshly-caught halibut in the lost property office, it needs addressing quickly.
So, two and a half days of attention await — a disorientating mixture of extreme pampering and severe torture. But I hope I emerge a better fellow for it.
Unusually for me, I won’t be taking a computer with me, so there will be no detailed posts from the front. Instead, I have a small mountain of Prince2 manuals to entertain me, and a solitary copy of the Times Literary Supplement, in case I need a sudden jab of culture. If I can summon the energy, I may offer the Twittersphere an occasional bulletin.
