I think they say moving house comes close to the stress of divorce. Well I’m not married yet and we’ve moved four times in 10 months. Maybe he’s trying to get rid of me (he does suffer from my strange macrobiotic recipes and how I’ve started leaving cupboard doors open), but he can’t shake me off that easily… Anyway it is stressful, without a doubt and I know this because I went for a massage in Chipping Camden – really nice place Cotswold House and the lady who gave me my holistic massage said the base of my spine was really hot compared with the rest of my back and that was because I was unsettled and on edge from all of the moving. But, this move is different. This move is home.

As I pack my bags for the final time (I don’t intend to die in my next house but I do intend to stay there long enough to have different things to pack, and different bags to pack the different things in) I realise how although I have moved an awful lot, I also haven’t really moved much at all. I’m talking about my arse. It’s not quite the size it was when I was being attacked by cheese in Paris, but it has not diminished as much as I’d hoped as I slowly come out of hibernation. I’ve been quite conscientious about attending my Fireman’s Training College Gym (a new definition of motivation?) and I did the Malta Half marathon in February and the Chedworth 10 mile trail run on Sunday, but basically I don’t really move.

This has been niggling at me since I saw a great programme on TV (you see, again I am on my arse as I find it hard to watch TV when taking a light jog) The Truth about Exercise which basically said we should do lots more intense exercise and that most of us don’t move enough. We should move more, all the time – so going to the gym or a run once a day is not that great. It’s clearly better than not going at all but it would be even better if we walked around all day and did gym visits and running too, which is hard when you work from home and sit in front of a computer. I’m thinking about my arse again. It does a lot of sitting because I find it hard to walk and write, and I find it hard to read and walk – unlike those people you see negotiating escalators and ticket barriers or entire crowded streets with their noses in their books. (I don’t believe they are reading at all I think they have just learnt to read and want everyone to see them doing it).

So I’ve recently started walking to work and walking on my lunch break and walking home from work, even though I work from home. I do little loops around the village and take pictures and pretend I am in a rush and I may get knocked over by that… tractor. It’s made me realise that all this gallivanting around the countryside is easy when you live in a village in the middle of nowhere, but when I move home I’m going to have to be more disciplined. So I really am going to start taking this moving business seriously, and intend to join a kick boxing gym and kick some ass. Watch this diminishing space.