And heres me desperately trying to resume an athletic figure, like I had when I ran and cycled more. I blame playing instruments, I prefer practicing to back-jarring and boring excercises, the only sport I really like is squash, and I'm not at all sure that it isnt the visit to the pup afterwards that keeps me going. I noticed my figure took a turn for the worst quite suddenly around the 50 mark. My old mate Al who smoked like a chimney became a born again long distance runner at 50 and thinks nothing of spending all day running across Wales, and he's as lithe as a ferret. There's no justice in the world Its great to know that after a certain age what matters more is not necessarily entirely visual.