IT’S Sunday afternoon, all the chores are done and I’ve got nothing to do but relax.

Obviously spending all day inside would be a waste of such a nice day, so I decide I’ll go for a run after a bit of lunch.

Of course, it’s best to wait an hour or so for the food to go down properly so in the meantime I sit down and put on Netflix.

I’m sure you can see where this is going.

That hour quickly turns into two or three, finding little excuses not to put my trainers on. After all, it doesn’t get dark until after 8pm now and maybe I should have a coffee before I go out and I haven’t checked my online banking in a few days and oh look someone’s just posted a funny YouTube video on Twitter and wait where did that hour go?

By about 6 o’clock I’m weighing up the pros and cons of going out against feeling guilty for not going.

But then suddenly three of my friends from Cardiff who just happened to be passing on the way back from a trip decide to swing by unannounced and ask if I fancy a carvery.

Well, it would be rude not to.

And as nice as that was it did essentially put the kibosh on doing any kind of exercise for the rest of the evening – just you try going for a run with a belly full of roast potatoes.

For some reason I seem to have an uncanny ability to avoid exercise – despite actually quite enjoying it.

A few years ago I managed to get myself into the mindset that going to the gym was something I had to do as much as going to work rather than something I should do, and that generally worked out pretty well in providing motivation. But somewhere along the line that managed to drop off.

It’s fair to say I could do with getting fitter and dropping a pound or ten, so while sitting down with a book or a DVD is ultimately much easier than going to the gym and picking up heavy things, I need to actively change the way I think.

Wait, never mind, I’ve just discovered the stand up comedy section in Netflix so that’s the next week gone.