I am not sure if I can still do a handstand.

I may be able to.

But I haven’t tried for such a long time.


I do grown up fitness, though.

With posh, clunking, robust machines in grey, black and red.

With settings that ensure that whatever I lift gets heavier and heavier and increasingly unpleasant to move as-we-go.

And whirring bikes and rowing machines that go nowhere, yet get me somewhere.

Fitter, I think.


Grown up fitness is not fun.

That’s why so many people do it in fits-and-starts.

As it happens, I have the nice people from STORM to help me.

So I do enjoy it.

And I stick around.

But the fundamental activities.

Running on the spot.

Cycling to nowhere.

Lifting until you can’t lift any more.

That’s not fun.

Well, not for most people.


How strange it is then that handstands are fun.

And hula-hooping.

And, I imagine, skipping.

And running around trying to catch a frisbee.

There’s a lot to be said for childishness.

Woven into what we grown-ups are supposed to do.

I’d strongly recommend it.

Not just when were are trying to get fit.

But in everything.

To feel good.

And to smile.


If you decide to try a handstand.

And land on your head.

It’s not my fault.


(But do send a picture.

Of the handstand.

Not you landing on your head).

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