ALL the fitness training, the dieting and hard work is to no avail as the closest I have come to climbing into a saddle has been the quality time I spent with the statue of Red Rum last week.
I had hoped to get stuck into some refresher riding lessons over the next fortnight, all building towards next month when I link up with one of the country's best loved jump stables to begin my training proper.
But I seem to have fallen at the first hurdle with my horse racing challenge.
Six public stables in and around the Merseyside area were unable to accommodate me with an animal capable of supporting my even slimmed down ample frame.
Not one of the stables I’ve contacted over the last week or so could rustle up a steed willing to take yours truly on a couple of leisurely trots.
I'm only six two and, these days, coming in under 13 stone it's not like I am Andre the Giant or Big Daddy or anything.
The obvious question is, how did the equestrian world become so Fat-ist!
Where do grown men whose mid-life crisis has given them a sudden penchant to learn to ride go locally to fulfil their desires?
In three weeks time, I will be standing nose to tail with an elite racehorse. He'll be turning around, taking one look at me and thinking, "don't even think about it, soft lad."
I had hoped that a couple of weeks mixing it in the lower leagues would help me build the confidence to mutter back, "I'm your daddy now, Mr Ed!"
But having hit a brick wall in my training programme my confidence ahead of next month's horse racing challenge is at its lowest ebb.
So today I am making a public appeal to ECHO readers and stables across the region to come to my aid.
All I am after is a handful of lessons, some gentle trots and comfortable gallops to help me get back on the bike, if you know what I mean.
Hopefully, a stable or private owner can come to my rescue. over the next fortnight That way, I won't have to turn up at a professional stable not having been aboard a horse for many years.
SEEING FRUITS OF MY LABOURS
I HAD what addicts call a sobering moment on Monday when I got to the checkout at the supermarket and thought I'd walked away with someone else's trolley.
Stirring down at my goods I had to do a double take.
It was just eight weeks ago that my purchases included all the wonders of the modern world.
Frozen pizzas, Doritos, Babybell, home-made Fajita packs, cheese slices, jammie dodgers and, of course, a couple of eight packs.
But all those goodies have now firmly been replaced by what I used to describe simply as rabbit food.
There was a time I never lingered within firing distance of the fruit and veg. Now, I am squeezing melons and smelling peppers en route to filling my bags.
I didn't even venture close to the frozen section.
And after tipping the scales in the gym at the weekend at a lean, mean 12st 8lbs, at least my weight issues are in control, even if my racing training programme failed to clear the first fence!
IN THE SWIM TO STEP UP FITNESS
THE opening of the new Olympic size 50 metre swimming pool in Wavertree is going to go a long way with my fitness training for the rest of the year and also training for challenge number six.
Olympic champion Steve Parry may have few qualms about our race across the River Mersey in August, but it's fair to say that I have already had one or two sleepless nights, as well as much ribbing from friends, regarding the tidal swim.
I wasn't a bad little swimmer as a kid, but these days the only time I ever take a dip is during my two-week summer holiday or on the odd occasion I pluck up the courage to suck the belly in at the gym.
I am sure getting to grips with the city's finest new leisure facility will help take my fitness up another level.
Nothing beats swimming when it comes to cardio training, and I am also looking forward to testing my nerves by diving off the high board as well!
