Exercise? - phooey.

Well, I was fortunate. I tried smoking and hated it; tried beer, couldn't stand the taste. Couldn't afford to buy spirits until I was old enough to get drunk and decided I hated that more than the above. Found over-eating made me ill, but that I enjoyed food very much indeed as long as there wasn't too much of it. Didn't try drugs - they weren't around during the years when I might have tried them (at least not in the West of Cornwall!); anyway hated the thought of being out of control, and that life was quite exciting enough without trying to find some artificial means of livening it up any more. Tried a gym for a brief period and discovered I very much disliked physical exercise of any kind - other than walking - briskly but not maniacally - with a book or a dog or two.  I also found that almost everything I enjoyed most in life could be done while either sitting or lying down (though sometimes in the latter case a certain amount of enjoyable exercise was certainly involved). So non-smoking and sober and sedentary. And at the moment in my ninth decade and living happily on walks with the dogs and one cocktail at day at precisely 6 p.m.
Does it sound dull? Well, all I can say that boredom is not registered on any scale I recognise; nor do I seem to bore my friends - or even my wife. Do I recommend such a life? Not really - anyone who wants to hasten their decease is very welcome to do so. The wqorld's over-populated.