Blog: The Weekend Warrior on… Getting older

Recently I was lying on a table while a physio friend of mine inflicted the kind of pain on my buttocks you’d normally have to pay serious cash for in Soho. As I lay there squawking like a castrated parrot every time he elbowed me in the hamstrings, he engaged me in small talk about how my season was going, presumably because he was tired of looking at someone who had the same startled expression as a pensioner who’s just heard a noise downstairs.

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