Run

Was planning to write out a really long entry about the Olympics, the human body and the cruel sin of envy, but you'll prolly not want to read it anyway.

There is beauty in brevity.

So unless you're a rotund starfish living under a rock on the ocean bed, you'd have watched the Olympics, then subsequently gawked at how fit and toned all those bodies look. If you're not a professional athlete already, you most probably have a body that is way less desirable than them.

And then comes the painful, cruel pangs of envy. You wonder, perhaps if you have that diver's body, you could strut the streets confidently in fitting clothing and get any boy/girl you desire?

I really do want to have Usain Bolt's speed, combined with Michael Phelp's ability to cut through any body of water effortlessly, in addition to the grace and agility of all the gymnasts and divers we'd been seeing on TV and in the newspapers.

It's sort of depressing that many of the Olympians are younger than me. Getting an Olympic medal - that's one thing that is now absolutely impossible in my life.

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But that won't stop me.

I refuse to become one of many pale-faced flabby men who look like they've not seen the sun for months. Men who have not had physical activity to forge them into shape.

I'm running.