Continuing last week’s simian theme, as I write I’m surrounded by enough grapes, pears, bananas and peaches to make a howler monkey do its thing with considerable enthusiasm.
I’m not a complete clot and I know I can’t go completely mad on fruit because of their natural sugars, but to my mind (and body for that matter) they’re infinitely preferable to the heaven-sent but fatty crisps and carb-heavy snacks I’d usually chomp on throughout the day.
That said, I was surprised to read of the growing movement of fruit-free diets for animals in zoos across the world, due to increased sugar levels caused by the cultivation and selective breeding of fruit.
Historically I always marvelled at the amazing colourful spread of exotic fruit being scoffed by the various monkeys, tamarins and capuchins at Drusillas Park, and thought I’d be easily be able to lay my hands on a photo of one of the aforementioned primates tucking into a colourful platter of mango, kiwi fruit, and melon et al.
But that fruity ship appears to have sailed, and the residents of Drusillas now eat more veg than a vegan in carvery.
On their website it states: “All fruit items have been removed from our plant-eaters’ diets completely and replaced by vegetable alternatives. Even the fruit bats have swapped a diet of melon and mangos for sweet potatoes and parsnip.”
Bad luck fruit bats.
At the gym I’ve kept up the momentum created by a priceless hour with Ryan O’Gorman, Freedom Leisure’s health and fitness manager for Brighton and Hove.
The new exercises have been good, and a nice change to just toiling away on the cardiovascular machines.
However, I did come a cropper at the Prince Regent attempting to recreate the slam ball exercise, which I’d managed at the both the King Alfred and Portslade Sports Centre.
Put simply, the slam ball is a heavy, very durable ball, with soft outer skin, which doesn’t bounce, and which I’ve been lifting and slamming into the floor with all my raging might.
At the Prince Regent I attempted to do the same with what I thought was a slam ball.
It wasn’t. It was a medicine ball. A medicine ball that bounced. A medicine ball that bounced back into my stupid face.
Fortunately, my reactions aren’t as bad as my eyesight and I managed to move quickly enough for it only to hit my big forehead and cause only minimal pain. And even more fortunately, no-one else witnessed it.
Next week is a fallow week for the Lazy Journalist as I’m taking a few days off, and with any luck, eating more salads than pies.
To find out more about Freedom Leisure’s gyms visit www.freedom-leisure.co.uk