Summer is officially the time to celebrate the great outdoors, so sport and exercise are frequently promoted as fun ‘al fresco’ activities for all the family.
I’m not a fitness fanatic but in recent years I’m become more proactive in fighting the flab that is the inevitable consequence of entering middle-age and beyond.
Aside from being more careful with my diet, I aim to do at least an hour’s exercise every day through a combination of power walking, light jogging, leisurely swimming and gentle workouts in the gym.
All of these could, in theory, be done in the company of others, but my independent (read anti-social) streak means that for the most part I sweat and strain alone.
I find that August is the cruellest month in which to pursue my modest programme of fitness related activities in and around my home in Northern Italy.
These are the five main reasons why:
1. The heat – It’s Summer, so it has every right to be hot but, unlike in the UK, Italian heat is of the type that endures. I hesitate to use the old chestnut that ‘it’s not the heat, it’s the humidity’ but when you find yourself needing to take a shower at least three times a day, even if you’re just slobbing around, this means it is more than just ‘ a bit clammy’ . Anyone running between 8am and 8pm risks ending up in a sweaty blob of discomfort.
2. The insects – here comes the sun and here come all of those nasty creepy crawlies and flying pests that, if you’re in the wrong place and wrong time will eat you alive. There’s a whole shelf full of sprays and creams that are supposed to scare these insidious beasties off but I’ve yet to find one that really works.
3. The pools – in other seasons, the swimming pools are covered and frequented by people who want to go for a swim. In the summer, outdoor pools look inviting until the paying customers arrive. Doing lengths means dodging random kids and adults who are simply in the water to splash about a bit and, more often than not, get in the way.
4. Outdoor exercise groups – this list is beginning to sound a little misanthropic, for which I make no apologies. I detest those all too public training sessions that invade the Adriatic beaches to compete with the green algae as the main reason to stay away. You know the type, where the young, the old and, frankly, the folks who should know better are taken through their paces stretching and gyrating clumsily to some hideous ‘dance’ tune like La fucking Macarena.
5. The gym – is either closed (special holiday opening times!) or , if open, has inadequate air conditioning to cope with the soaring temperatures outside. This means four weeks of frustration in the one month that I have the time to devote towards getting the body of my dreams – I’m sure Brad Pitt never had these problems.
All the above mean that in September I will be (in the words of the dystopian Radiohad song) “calm, fitter, healthier and more productive
but this also happens to be the month I go back to work.
Sometimes you just can’t win.
