Gut reaction

FITNESS trainer Dave Pearman's mission, should he have wished to accept it, was to make me handsome. He didn't wish to accept it. "Then make me superfit," I wailed - or was it whaled? - and this was possible, but only just. So lithe Dave, a tall, close-cropped ex-military man who climbs, fell runs, abseils and teaches judo, gave me a brisk, critical-eyed once-over then, with an "oh-what-the-heck" twitching of a neck cable, got to work.

Using science combined with all the amazing new-fangled body-mangling wonders at the luxurious Livingwell Premier Health Club at York Business Park, Nether Poppleton, he prepared to whittle and mould the 'me that should be.'

The existing me is 55 years old but underneath this sagging, flabby exterior is another sagging, flabby exterior.

But below that, I hope, is the sinuous, muscular demi-god who only 35 years ago used to lean into scrums as a prop-forward of - dare I boast - some power.

Could Dave make him re-emerge? Could he resurrect my latissimus dorsi from beneath my fattisimus horsi? Bring back my abs from a long abs-ence? Return the puff and magic to this droopy dragon?

Of course it is not down to him. It is down to me. And, dear reader, to you who must cheer and will me on over the next few months when I will periodically give you reports on my progress all the way to my goal of snorting fitness.

You and Dave have my assurance: I shall do all in my power to follow instructions and banish my belly no matter how hard I am expected to train; no matter how embarrassing...

Witness how I allow my calves and arms to be measured like I'm a cow being sold for slaughter.

See how I unflinchingly let Dave pinch my hips, arms and wing hammocks with gauged pincers - of the kind the Nazi SS would have approved - in order to measure my total body fat.

Sorry, voyeurs, for the moment I'm not going to reveal the humiliating specifics of how much fat is where, but I will reveal the average vital statistics of lard overflow, OK?

It seems that my average "fold thickness" is 56mm (where the fit male of my height and age should measure about 30 mm); and fat occupies 28.11 per cent of my body (where it should be between 12 and 19 per cent.)

What it boils down to is that there is 3.7 stone of mostly-useless blubber to go at with a battle plan drawn up by Dave of such intensity that I'm wondering whether to move permanently into this 40,000 sq ft £5.3 million cathedral devoted to aspirational and actual bodies beautiful.

It opened last June and doesn't come cheap, but it does represent ultimate pampering, including a Sensory hair and beauty section with four deluxe treatment rooms, hair dressing salon, relaxation room and sunbed solarium.

Then there's the wonderfully blue pool, two saunas, two steam rooms and two Jacuzzis, changing rooms steeped in aromatic unctions and potions, hair dryers, cozzie dryers, private showers and complimentary towels.

And every high tech device you can think of, and some you can't, are in the gymnasium areas, including multi-channeled televisions, heart-monitoring cycle machines, ski-ing devices, step up machines and sit-in/lie-on gadgetry designed to blast the silt out of your valves. With the help of screens you can actually cycle in the virtual Alps and attend dozens of studio activities from "bums 'n' tums" exercises to ballet

I have begun, with expert medical approval, knowing that I am a type two diabetic. It's an advantage because my condition is permanently controlled by strictly healthy diet.

And means that I will have no trouble resisting the obvious lures offered by Maxis Chinese Restaurant, the Bengal Brasserie and the Wetherby Whaler which are all on the business park, tantalisingly close to the Livingwell complex.

So what is Dave's fitness regime drawn up especially for me? It's hellishly complicated and to sleek up your form paradoxically requires a lot of form-filling every session. But in broad brush, this is it:

Warm up for five minutes taking my heart rate to 55 - 60 per cent of its maximum (between 118 and 127 heartbeats per minute) relayed from a belt-up chest sensor to a treadmill.

Stretch, using machines designed to twang your taut hamstrings and take the tension out of your tendons and muscles.

Begin resistance workout from personal training sheet, working for 20 minutes twice a week or more. These, in fitness lingo include chest and shoulder presses, lat pull-downs, rowing, bicep curls, tricep extensions, leg pressesd, abductors, abdominal crunches and, heaven help me step-ups.

("Yes, stepping up and down on that is easy peasy. Now try it with these," he says handing me two ten kilo weights to carry at the same time.)

The result is that only my left earlobe doesn't hurt. I feel bruised, saddle sore, and walk gingerly but no pain no gain...

More about my progress later.

Updated: 09:53 Monday, March 18, 2002