You know, I think I’m on my way to becoming a goddamn inspirational meme.
And this is not a flash-in-the-pan thing. Not like the cardio-tennis. No no no, this is long-lasting, life-changing stuff.
I’ve been doing it for EIGHT WEEKS, so I fully expect a book deal, if not a TV series.
In the first episode, I’ll talk meaningfully to camera, explaining the seismic events that were the catalyst to this.
When the anonymous person behind the camera asks, I’ll explain, with a suitably earnest expression that:
1. I’m turning 50 in a few months and worked out that if I continue to put on half a kilo every year I’ll be the size of a Toyota Prado by the time I’m 70. No disrespect to the Toyota Prado, it’s a fine automobile. It’s just tough finding clothes to fit it. Parking spaces are tricky. And they use a lot of petrol.
2. The last decade went like a doped Usain Bolt. My 40th birthday party feels it was like the week before last. If the next one goes even faster without me taking charge of things, then I might as well sign up for an AVEO apartment now.
3. I’ve run out of excuses. I don’t care if people think I look blobby in athleisure. I am not pregnant, planning to be pregnant, or revelling in the glory of a recent pregnancy. The children (on whom I blame a certain amount of my softness) are of an age they can be left at home unattended. I have a little more time than I did a few years ago.
4. In March I was diagnosed with breast cancer. Low level, caught early but still cancer. Two surgeries, six weeks’ radiation, and some dreary drug therapy should mean the end of it. But holy hell, there’s nothing like a malignancy as a reminder that none of us knows how long we have. Although there’s nothing I could have done to prevent it, there’s a bunch of things I can do to make the most of whatever I have left – which I really hope will be another 50 years.