In a moment of folly, I appear to have talked myself into a corner.
I fancied a pint at the weekend, and called a friend who told me that he was detoxing. I wasn't having any of it. This time of year isn't the time of year to be making yourself more miserable by depriving yourself of life's pleasures. I talked him round and he came out for a pint or two.
This blog post isn't about beer though (but a passing mention of the brilliant Evening Star wouldn't go amiss). Over the course of the evening's pontifications, we obviously discussed the reasons for detoxing and New Years Resolutions. I commented in passing that I was never as fit as when I played squash. And now somehow I'm playing this thursday. I haven't played since 2002. I can't remember the rules. It took me two days to find my racquet. It could all end in tears. Worse, it could end in blood, sweat and tears. Or I could return me to the peak of fitness that I had years ago, if I keep it up.
I'll try and blog again on friday and let you know how I fared...