Never mind the curly-wurlys, here comes the man corset

I find it easy to put on weight at this time of the year. It's not rocket science, to be honest – I just eat more and exercise less. It's easier to sit down with a pot of tea and a three-pack of Curly Wurlys than to put on a meter-squared of lycra and cycle 60 kilometres around the backroads of Co Louth. In the dark.

They problem is, they’re everywhere this time of the year. You know, the God damn heroes who go jogging in hurricanes and cycling in the snow, making you feel even worse about yourself than usual. For the rest of the population motivation is an issue in the winter.

In a moment of such demotivation last week, I found myself scrolling through Facebook when an ad for a body vest for men popped up. Basically, it’s a corset that straps down your middle-age spread and man boobs so you can appear slimmer than you actually are. This, in the same month that Nestle announced that they could possibly reduce the amount of sugar necessary to make chocolate bars by 40 per cent. That’s an extra 1.2 curly wurlys with the pot of tae, I thought to myself.

In any case, these messages from on high did spark a moment for pause.

I looked at the middle-aged man being corseted up like a Victorian wan in the Facebook ad and I thought “how bad?” and knowing that Christmas party season was under way, figured this may be the answer to my lapsed fitness regime. Let’s face it, I’m going to be eating even more and exercising even less over Christmas so a man-corset could be a blessing in disguise.

Force myself

Of course this happens every year. In the summer I cycle a road bike I bought on the bike-to-work scheme a few years ago. In order to force myself to take time out of a busy work-and-family-life schedule I usually sign up for a couple of fairly significant cycling events – one is a charity spin to Galway (the charity in question will likely not be running this in 2017) and the other is the Great Dublin Bike Ride.

Both are big spins for an amateur, fair-weather cyclist like yours truly. The first is on the flat, but the biggest issue is the sheer length of time in the saddle and a sometimes fairly strong headwind blowing from the west. The Dublin gig takes us up significant hills all the way up to the top of Garristown in north Co Dublin. So, both required a lot of training to avoid any coronary incidents en route. For a few months I was probably cycling an average of 100km a week and some weeks a little bit more in preparation. So I was able to lose a good bit of weight and feel fit and healthy. Same last year.

But then September comes. The bike is in the garage and I’m inside, feet up, a steaming pot of real tea, that mountain of confectionary, the dog begging. The kids begging. People judging me. Every winter is like this.

But if I am to avoid wearing the corset, a winter fitness regime is required. This year it was decided that I would take up tennis via a family membership of the local club and a class on a Wednesday night: me and seven ladies, also beginners.

It is great craic and because it’s a small class you kind of shame yourself into making the most of or risk others noticing that you haven’t turned up. Not only is it keeping me moving during the week, the tennis class is also a good study on the differences between men (smash the ball and try to win the point) and women (try to keep the rally going). My tennis coach assures me my behaviour is normal.

Turbo trainer

There are other, less embarrassing options for maintaining fitness during the winter. There’s a thing called a turbo trainer that basically lets you ride your bike inside without actually moving. The turbo trainer props up the back wheel so you can pedal to your heart’s content (literally) and maybe watch a box-set while doing it. People I know who use them swear by them as a really cheap and efficient way of keeping up the hours in the saddle without actually bringing on hypothermia. You’ll pick one up for fifty or 60 quid.

If that all seems a little monotonous, an investment in a thick pair of socks, a pair of walking boots, a woolly hat and maybe a dog that needs a lot of walking will get you off the couch. There is nothing quite as refreshing as traipsing around our beautiful county in the wind, rain and cold.

But probably rule number one for the reluctant exerciser is to cut out the mid-week treats and booze. Let’s be clear, the weekend does not run from Wednesday to Sunday inclusive, even if it is Christmas. Here’s how to put you off mid-week drinking. Bring a month’s worth of bottles to the bottle bank. As you throw each bottle in, add up the price of each. Now add the calories. A large glass of wine has the same amount of calories as an ice cream. Imagine all those really expensive ice creams you’ve been eating over the last month. Yeah, pretty gross. Now look at an ad for body vests.

Finally, saddle up the dog and head for the hills, your body will thank you for it.