AND FINALLY Exercise? That's So Last Season
Byline: by Lauren Libbert
EVERY year it happens. The temperature nosedives and the nation's mood plummets.
Heating is begrudgingly cranked up, car windscreens are angrily defrosted and mums slowly go insane with cooped up, electronically-charged children.
But, then, Irish winters are notoriously gloomy. Hats ruin hair, gloves refuse to be found in pairs and coats that looked stylish swinging open and free in the breezy days of autumn turn you into an Oompa Loompa when buttoned up against the winter chill.
Depressing? No, not at all. If one of Santa's elves happened to stumble by my humble abode on their pre-Christmas rounds, they'll witness a very happy sight. Because there I'll be, on the sofa, doing something that only winter allows me to do -- slovenly letting go.
There'll be no rushing off to a fitness class. No munching on rice cakes while willing them to taste like chunks of Lindt's Milk Chocolate instead.
No, for me, winter is the season to be gloriously lazy, and night after night I do what I imagine MasterChef's Dylan McGrath does after a day of hardcore judging -- unbutton his trousers, slip into something more comfortable and let it all hang out. I'll wear my comfiest pyjamas, eat dinner in front of the TV and devour ice-cream straight from the tub. In fact, typically on a cold winter's night I won't move off the sofa for a good three hours straight.
Yes, I could go for a quick run in the park. But did you see all that mud? As for the gym, the thought of being blasted by one of those icy changing room draughts when stepping out of a hot shower is enough to make me reach for my Vick's chest rub.
Even Australians who, let's face it, don't have nearly as severe a winter as we do, relax more in the colder months with almost 80 per cent of women there being put off exercising by the weather. …