Before The Little Madam was born, I used to walk home from work. I did this right up until I was about 8 months pregnant, and before I was forced to start getting the bus instead - due to massive hugeness - the journey took me about 45 minutes in the middle of summer.
It was around about that day when, no doubt due to some traffic jam in the middle of town somewhere, it took me 50 minutes to get home on the bus (mostly including a half-hour wait for the damned thing to arrive at the bus stop), that I wondered whether it might be just as quick for me to do the homeward journey on foot, after all.
So this afternoon, I left the office the very nanosecond the clock struck midday. I strode as quickly as my short legs would allow, dodging old ladies and kids on their school holidays, getting nicely warm and hopefully also developing an attractive glow.
I was home in 35 minutes - or 33 minutes if you go by the time on my kitchen clock, which is conveniently a couple of minutes slow.
If I can keep this up for the rest of my work contract, I can expect to earn at least a little firmness around the bum. Then I'll have to work on the tum.